CONFESSIONS 

OF A 

MODERN MIDAS 


By Theoooke W. Nbvin. 



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CONFESSIONS of a 
MODERN MIDAS 


Si/ THEODORE W. NEVIN 


JlddrcM 

KEYSTONE BANK BUILDING 
PITTSBURG. PA. 

1906 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 


Two Copies Received 

NOV 23 1906 


Copyrlrht Entry 

oL 

CLASS XXc., No. 

/ SI C ^ ^ 

OOPY B. 


COPYRIGHT. 1906, BY 
THEODORE W. NEVIN 



Confessions of a Modem Midas 

CHAPTER I. 

No more remarkable document was ever 
given to the public than that which accom- 
panied the will of the late Ralph Ranscomb, 
multi-millionaire banker and capitalist, philan- 
thropist without peer, founder of countless 
charities, patron of innumerable benefactions, 
looked up to and revered by a whole nation 
and pointed out as the ideal man for boys to 
pattern their lives after if they would be suc- 
cessful and at the same time worthy. No 
document ever created the profound impression 
among the circle of man^s intimate acquaint- 
ance that this one did, revealing as it did the 
innermost secrets of the business world, the 
hidden motive springs of high finance an4 


6 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 


forceful chicancery by which vast fortunes 
are sometimes amassed. 

But of greatest and most fascinating interest 
to the public at large is the laying bare in this 
remarkable paper of the secret workings of a 
iiuman heart, the high ambitions, the covert 
plottings, the carefully timed and executed 
plans, the .splendidly wicked achievements 
which were called success by the onlooking 
world. 

Some there are who have censured the son 
to whom this strange document was left for 
making it public, but Henry Ranscomb was 
a man in whom was embodied, through his 
mother and by his early training, virtues wihch 
his father harl not, even though he lacked the 
father’s masterful strength. The son, after pon- 
dering over the matter for a long time, at last 
decided that even his father would have wished 
that this story of his life be given to the world, 
as a sign to over-ambitious young men to stay 
off the paths he had trod to such a bitter end. 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


7 


Mr. Ralph Ranscoinb, the father, had been 
one of the leading men of the city, a banker, 
connected in a guiding capacity with many of 
the principal financial and commercial insti- 
tutions, and a millionaire many times over. 
He had accumulated his immense fortune 
through his own efforts, and he was recognized 
generally as a man of tremendous ability. His 
advice was sought at all times and invariably 
acted upon ; for it was always sound. Even 
in civic affairs he was appealed to when the 
undertakings were of any moment, for to have 
them indorsed by Banker Ranscomb was 
equivalent to having them marked ‘^sterling.’’ 
This meant that they would be adopted and 
carried to completion, for few would think of 
opposing anything which Mr. Ranscomb ap- 
proved. He was thus not only a man of great 
wealth, but a powerful factor in shaping the 
financial and civic life of the city. 

While he had been a liberal contributor to 
religious and charitable institutions, and for 


8 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 

such a busy man, had devoted considerable 
time to their management, his course in this 
respect had not attracted more attention than 
that of other rich men, for there were many 
who had been as generous as he. But after 
he had recovered from a long sickness, a fever, 
which occurred several years before his death, 
his charitable propensities assumed an entirely 
different shape. The munificence of the man 
previously had been a small rivulet ; it now be- 
came a mighty river. 

The first deed of Mr. Ranscomb to attract 
the particular attention of the community was 
his generous contribution to the various hos- 
pitals and '‘homes” of the city. A gift of $50,- 
000 to the City General Hospital was followed 
by similar donations to the Presbyterian Hospi- 
tal for a new wing, and to the St. Peter and St. 
Paul for extensions and improvements. Then 
followed contributions of varying amounts to 
the Protestant Home for Babies, Sunshine 
Public Nursery, Non-Sectariap Hospital for 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


9 


Ghildreii, the Vandervlick Home for Incur- 
ables, the St. Francis Widows and Orphans’ 
Home, the Improvement of the Poor Associa- 
tion, Orphan Boys’ Industrial Home, Memorial 
Home for Crippled Children, Home for Aged 
Colored Women, Fresh Air Mission, Deaf and 
Dumb Asylum, etc., etc. There was scarcely 
an institution for the relief of the unfortunate, 
the destitute, the needy, which did not get wel- 
come aid from his open purse. He seemed to 
seek out particularly, as subjects for his great- 
est benefactions. Widows’ Homes, Aged Peo- 
ple’s Relief Societies, Orphan Asylums and 
associations for the amelioration of the condi- 
tion of the luckless or unfortunate. The 
money was given with such hearty good will, 
with such whole-souled sincerity, with such an 
undisguised eagerness, that it was the more 
noteworthy; no wonder the people looked on 
with astonishment at this display of open- 
handed-charity. The long succession of boun- 
teous offerings was, however, merely prelim- 


10 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


inary to larger and more astounding actions. 
One morning the announcement was made that 
Mr. Ranscomb was going to build and endow 
a home for aged and destitute men and women. 
It was stated that he had bought a large and 
beautiful country place near the city on which 
he proposed erecting several detached buildings, 
each large enough to comfortably accommodate 
two hundred guests. Each was to be complete 
in itself, with all modern conveniences for the 
comfort of its inmates; bright, airy rooms, well 
furnished ; light halls, cheerful parlors, com- 
fortable lounging rooms and reading rooms, a 
model dining room and a kitchen department 
unequaled by even the finest modern hotels. 
The grounds were to be laid out by a profes- 
sional landscape gardener in the most attractive 
style possible. No expense would be spared 
to make the grounds and buildings comfortable 
and delightful. 

The morning Tribune, in making the an- 
nouncement, said : 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODEHN MIDAS. 11 


“Our philanthropic townsman, Mr. Ralph 
Ranscomh. who has done so much in the past 
for the charitable institutions of the city, has 
given us a newer and greater surprise. This 
gentleman’s wonderful liberality in the past is 
well known to the readers of the Tribune, as 
we have frequently had occasion to refer to his 
public bequests. It is doubtful if there is a 
single eleemosynary institution in the city 
which has not benefited by his generosity; if 
so, the fault was with the institution for not 
letting its wants be known, not with Mr. Rans- 
comb. It has yet to be said that the representa- 
tives of any deserving charity have gone away 
empty-handed from Mr. Ranscomb. 

“Nevertheless, Mr. Ranscomb is not a care- 
less giver. While he is far and away the most 
open-handed benefactor the city has ever had, 
in fact the most liberal there has ever been 
in these United States, he gives advisedly. His 
money does not go where it will do harm, 
where it might have a tendency to pauperize, 


12 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


to destroy the sturdy manhood or womanhood 
of the recipients; it goes to the assistance of 
the weak, the helpless, the human wrecks which 
are to be found, unfortunately, in too great 
numbers in our midst. 

‘The daily scene on the street in front of 
Mr. Ranscomb's private office, at the rear of 
his bank building, is one of the sights of the 
city. Nowhere else could one see such a mixed 
and interesting assemblage, men, women and 
children, supplicants for favors from the great 
public benefactor. Mr. Ranscomb’s method of 
dealing with this motley gathering is, however, 
the most interesting feature of the occasion. 
Each applicant is treated with great considera- 
tion, almost as if he were a king, but his case 
is investigated in the keen business way char- 
acteristic of Mr. Ranscomb in all his dealings 
with men. No point is missed; he can appar- 
ently see men through and through, and it goes 
without saying that no one not worthy of help 
gets anything, or vice versa. 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 13 


“The same rigid scrutiny is exercised in 
his contributions to public charities. It must 
be acknowledged that there are black sheep in 
the ranks of those who carry on these noble 
works. There are cases where the institutions 
are unworthy, where they are merely carried 
on for the purpose of providing the boards with 
a pleasant diversion, an agreeable publicity; 
and other cases where they serve no good pur- 
pose further than to provide good positions for 
officers. Mr. Ranscomb recognized this fact 
when he started in his career of systematic 
generosity; and with his keen vision he soon 
singled out those of an unworthy character. 
They received nothing from him, while all the 
others were generously aided. 

“And just here, it is a pleasure for the 
Tribune to call the attention of the public to a 
notable fact: That Mr. Ranscomb’s rigid in- 
vestigations into the worthiness of our charit- 
able institutions has shown the percentage of 
the unworthy to be extremely small. Knowing 


14 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 

Mr. Ranscomb as we do, and kno\ying that it 
would be a veritable impossibility for defective 
or corrupt institutions to escape detection at 
his hands, it is highly creditable to our people 
that the percentage of the worthy is so high. 
Our charitable associations should feel highly 
gratified at this indirect, and for that reason the 
more complimentary, testimonial to the hon- 
orable and commendable position they occupy. 

“The gross amount which Mr. Ranscomb 
has given away during the last year or two 
cannot be estimated; it is not known to any 
one outside himself. Hundreds of thousands 
would not cover the case; a million or more 
would more nearly represent the figure. In 
any event the amount is something stupendous. 
But great as his beneficences have been in the 
past, they are totally eclipsed by what he now 
intends doing. He has purchased the large 
Green estate, just beyond the city limits, with 
its farming lands, its magnificent forests, its 
many acres of lovely meadows, its cool and. 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS, 15 


pleasant ravines, its refreshing rivulets and its 
springs of deliciously refreshing waters. On 
this- he proposes to erect several model build- 
ings; they might be called thoroughly up-to- 
date hotels, or perhaps better, palaces. This 
splendid estate with its palatial buildings, com- 
pletely equipped, is to be donated to the public 
as a Home for Aged and Destitute Men and 
Women. With it will go an endowment, in 
good five per cent, bonds of $3,000,000, the 
interest of which is to be used for paying the 
expenses of the institution. The total invest- 
ment for the purchase of grounds, putting up 
the buildings and the endowment, will run 
close to $6,000,000. 

“Mr. Ranscomb talks modestly for a man 
making such an extraordinary gift. He treats 
it as if it were merely a duty he owed the public. 
In talking to a representative of the Tribune 
on the subject, he said there was nothing that 
gave him more genuine satisfaction than doing 
something which would be of benefit to those 


16 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


who needed help. He said he considered him- 
self merely the custodian of the millions which 
the Lord had placed in his hands; the money 
was vastly more than he or his son could possi- 
bly spend for their own comfort or pleasure, 
hence what was the use of letting it accumulate 
while all about him were thousands of 
men and women who, through no fault of their 
own, possibly through the injustice and oppres- 
sion of others, were destitute and needy. He be- 
lieved the money was put in his hands to spend 
for the poor and deserving. It was not right 
for him to hold on to it until death, and then 
will it away; that was a slipshod and negligent 
way of disposing of that which the Lord in- 
tended should be given away with care. The 
ordinary plan of some rich men of putting the 
burden of wisely spending their wealth on 
others he considered most reprehensible ; it was 
shirking the most important part of the duty 
which the Lord laid upon him. It was the 
easiest thing in the world for a millionaire to 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 17 


toss a hundred thousand or two at a college or 
a hospital, and in effect say to those in charge : 
‘Fve done my duty, now you do yours/ It 
was much harder, and for that reason more of a 
duty, to not only give, but to give intelligently, 
to give where it would do good and not harm ; 
to follow the money up and see tliat it goes 
into the right channels, and that it was not frit- 
tered away on idle officials, in negligent pur- 
chases or on thievish employees. A man who 
is endowed with full mental powers and who 
does not need to exercise them in the acquire- 
ment of his daily bread, owes it to the Lord and 
to his fellowmen to see that his charitable be- 
quests are properly spent. In regard to the 
present gift, he considered the sustentation of 
helpless old people as not only a duty, but as a 
pleasure-bringing act, both to the donor and 
the recipient; possibly more so to the former 
than the latter. The trust fund for the main- 
tenance of the home was to be placed in charge 
of five of the foremost bankers of the city : 


18 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


Jacob Shiller, President of the Seaboard Sav- 
ings and Trust Co. ; Hubert Childs, of the Hide 
and Leather National Bank; Amos Webster, of 
the National Exchange Bank; Theodore Van- 
gorder, of the Empire Savings Co., and Asa P. 
Church, capitalist. These men were to have 
full control of the fund, and would be empow- 
ered to appoint their successors, so as to provide 
for a permanent board. He felt sure this selec- 
tion of trustees would at once establish public 
confidence in the scheme; it would certainly 
give him the satisfaction of knowing that the 
fund would be administered honorably and 
ably. As soon as this charity was under good 
headway Mr. Ranscomb said he intended to 
seek other channels in which to put the rest of 
his fortune. 

“We think our readers will agree with us 
in the statement that this gift of Mr. Rans- 
comb’s has never been equaled in this or any 
other country, in any age of the world.'' 

The city was all agog over the matter ; Mr. 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 19 


Ranscomb's name was in everybody’s mouth, 
praise of his marvelous generosity was uni- 
versal. All the newspapers of the city followed 
the lead of the Tribune and published columns 
of matter, telling the facts concerning the gift, 
with comments thereon. The comments were 
naturally of the most flattering character. 
When Mr. Ranscomb, a few months later, fol- 
lowed up this five-million-dollar donation with 
several others for charities of kindred nature, 
the total amount in these cases also running 
up into the millions, it created a furore. 
Scarcely anything else was talked about in 
offices, counting rooms, in the clubs, at recep- 
tions or elsewhere. No one could say too 
much in Mr. Ranscomb’s praise. 

But human nature is such that after the 
people had outvied each other in framing com- 
plimentary remarks, there came a change. 
Envy and malice succeeded admiration and 
esteem, and the back-biting and slander soon 
bid fair to outdo all the good that had been said 


20 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 

before. Mr. Ranscomb was accused by some 
of making the gifts from purely business rea- 
sons, hoping to get returns ; others said that he 
craved notoriety and that what he gave, 
stupendous as the amounts appeared, was but 
a tithe of what he possessed; still others held 
that he had gone clear crazy on the subject 
and suggested that his estate should be put in 
charge of trustees. There was no end to the 
various shades in which the malevolent opinions 
were expressed. The numbers of the colors in 
Joseph’s coat is not worth mentioning in the 
same breath. 

Naturally, as there are always “good 
friends” ready to carry evil tidings, the news 
of this vicious criticism reached Mr. Rans- 
comb’s ears; yet he did not seem upset by it, 
scarcely even annoyed. 

“That’s human nature,” he cheerfully re- 
marked; “but I’ll get credit where it’s most 
desired. I’m not crazy, I have not sordid 
motives, I am not seeking empty applause; I 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


21 


know what I am doing and I know it is the 
right thing to do^ — the only thing to do. As 
to this sudden change in the mental attitude 
of many, from unstinted praise to measureless 
abuse, that will right itself. The majority of 
the people, when they have had time to thor- 
oughly consider all the pros and cons, will see 
that my motives are good, and they will give 
me the credit that is due. Fm willing to wait 
and let time adjust matters, especially as my 
conscience approves of what I have done. I 
bear no ill-will toward those who are now 
abusing me ; I rather pity them for their vacil- 
lating weakness. A man who is swept from his 
faith, from his belief in the integrity of his 
fellow citizens, simply because the tidal wave 
of public opinion happens to go the other way, 
is a fit subject for commiseration.^’ 

Saying that Mr. Ranscomb refused to 
further discuss the matter. It was evident that 
he meant it all, for his demeanor thereafter 
was most serene, aye, even cheerful. Everj^ 


22 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


time he made a fresh donation he could be seen 
chuckling to himself ; there was no question 
that it gave him the keenest satisfaction. 

A few months later he died. It was a 
rather sudden death ; the doctors said from 
heart disease. His heart had been weakened, 
they said, by his fever of a few years before, 
and finally refused to work longer. 

Mr. Ranscomb’s will was a great surprise; 
there was no public bequest whatever in it. If 
was short; in his own hand writing, and prop- 
erly dated, signed and witnessed ; also acknowl- 
edged. It read thus : 

“I, Ralph Ranscomb, bequeath my entire 
estate to my only son, Henry Ranscomb. I 
appoint the said Henry Ranscomb sole executor 
of this, my last will and testament, without 
bond; no appraisement necessary.’' 

(Signed.) ‘‘Ralph Ranscomb.” 

♦ * ♦ >»C 5|C 

Lying beside the will in his private drawer 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 21 

was a packet, evidently manuscript, with the 
following inscription on it: 

''To my son, Henry Ranscomb, I entrust 
this packet. Not to be opened until one year 
after my death.” 

(Signed.) "Ralph Ranscomb.” 

The son Henry was faithful to the trust 
reposed in him and did not open the packet 
until the year was up. On doing so he found 
it to be a long manuscript, in his father’s hand- 
writing, containing several hundred pages. It 
had evidently been written in a most pains- 
taking manner, and was exceptionally legible. 
Mr. Ranscomb, senior, evidently wanted it 
to be plain and distinct, so that there could not 
possibly be any mistakes made in the reading 
of it. The pages were carefully numbered and 
bound together in proper succession. It was a 
perfectly prepared document. 

"My poor dead father ! What anguish was 
his ! It must have been a hell on earth for him ! 
Poor father ! Poor father !” were the exclama- 


24 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 

tions of Henry Ranscomb as he finished read- 
ing this narrative of his father’s life. The 
story was as follows: 


CHAPTER II. 


I want you, my only son, to know the true 
story of my unhappy life, so that you may not 
only profit by it in your conduct through life, 
but that you may carry out my wishes in regard 
to the disposal of my earthly possessions in 
case I fail to do so myself before death. If 
you act in both instances in the manner I indi- 
cate, you will possibly relieve the torment of 
my soul, you will bring to me in the hereafter 
what I failed to get here on earth. I fear I 
can not give my wealth away ; so you must. As 
a father, as a soul-tormented, heart-broken 
man, I beseech you to do what the uncontroll- 
able, Satanic influence in my nature may not 
permit me to do. I was born with an almost in- 
sane selfishness, with an inordinate greed for 
gold ; and these two characteristics grew 
stronger and stronger as I grew from babyhood 


26 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


into youth, from youth into manhood, from 
young manhood into middle age, and from 
middle age to the present. They grew on 
what they fed; the satisfaction of my selfish 
desires, the accumulation of gold, only served 
to make me struggle all the more fiercely for 
more. 

Even in childhood these traits were evi- 
dently above the ordinary. I remember well, 
how, when a mere lad, not long out of dresses, 
I used to play with my little sister. She was 
several years older than I, and of course per- 
fectly able to cope with me when it became a, 
question of physical strength. Having lived 
some years longer in the world than I she had 
accumulated a much larger number of toys; 
she was really quite wealthy in them, for our 
parents did not fail to treat us both liberally 
in the matter of gifts, and especially the first 
born. Margaret was not of a grasping dispo- 
sition, but she knew what her rights were in 
questions of possession, and she had an in- 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 27 


ground sense of the duty of standing up for 
those rights. 

Envious of Margaret’s belongings, I tried 
to take some of her most attractive toys from 
her by sheer physical force. It didn’t work ; she 
would not permit it, and her three extra years 
gave her the strength to resist all my efforts. 

I was determined to have those toys; how 
to get them was the question. An appeal to 
Margaret’s sympathies was effective at first; 
but after I had worked on that plan a number 
of times my dear little sister’s heart hardened ; 
she grew very tired of that method of relieving 
her of her possessions. I have reason to fear 
that those childish efforts of mine were mainly 
responsible for Margaret’s so-called closeness, 
her unsympathetic attitude toward public and 
private charities, which became such a marked 
characteristic in her later life. However that 
may be, an end was soon made to my getting 
anything by trying to work on her sympathies. 
She froze up against me. If I wanted to get 


28 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 

any of her toys I knew I must discover some 
other way of doing it. It was at this point that 
I learned the power of flattery. I don’t mean 
to say that I carefully reasoned the matter out, 
and then deliberately went to work to make use 
of that force. The first time I achieved any- 
thing by its use was a surprise ; and it was not 
until I had gained a succession of wished-for 
objects that I began to realize what a gold 
mine there was in the well-directed use of this 
subtle power. I have no doubt my early eflPorts 
were very crude, but my first victim, my poor 
little sister, was an easy one, for she naturally 
was not old enough to know the wiles of this 
world, and thus see through my conscienceless 
methods. Her toys, the ones I desired — for 
there were many which were only attractive 
to a girl’s mind — slowly but surely passed from 
her possession into mine. She learned to see 
through some of my flattery, but her growing 
strength in this direction did not keep pace with 
my ability in making it subtle and irresistable 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 29 


— this ability in me grew by leaps and bounds. 

My boyhood and youth were not particu- 
larly remarkable. I used my wits rather than 
my physical strength to achieve my ends. 
While on occasions I went deliberately to work 
to ‘‘do” some of my more fortunate boy friends 
out of their possessions, I more frequently had 
treasures thrust on me, as a result of my bon 
vivant nature. I was a leader in my set. I 
had a fertile mind for planning amusements, 
an enticing way of inviting my companions’ 
participation, and the ability to carry the idea 
out in a clever manner. This made boys flock 
to me, do my behests without question, become 
my slaves, in effect, if not in fact. It brought 
me much that was worth having, for in the 
carrying out of my thousand and one schemes 
it was necessary to have contributions of every 
kind of boyish property to the common fund, 
of which I was naturally custodian. While this 
kind of work was done mainly because of my 


30 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


Spirit of fun and love of leadership, I was not 
averse to the good things it brought me. 

I only remember one case in which I delib- 
erately set to work to wheedle one of the boys 
out of something of value. Casper Smith, son 
of a wealthy contractor, a boy not overly bright, 
one day appeared on the street with a new 
wagon. It was possibly three feet long, a foot 
and a half wide and fifteen inches high. It had 
strong wooden wheels, steel tires, substantial 
running gear, a well-made bed, and was painted 
a bright red. The bed had a removable floor 
in front, so that a boy could sit in the wagon, 
put his feet through to the ground and thus 
propel the vehicle. It was the envy of all the 
boys and, it is needless to say, I could not resist 
making an effort to become its owner. I ex- 
erted my mental powers to the utmost to bring 
about a change in ownership, and not without 
result, for two days later I walked off home 
with the wagon, while Casper went his way 
with a ’worn-out rifle and a much exaggerated 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 31 


estimate of his own importance. Nicely applied 
flattery had won the day for me. 

One day about this time I was walking 
with Casper when he found a pocketbook lying 
on the sidewalk. On opening it we saw that it 
contained a large amount of money and checks ; 
the checks were all made payable to Haynes, 
the grocer, which made it plain to us to whom 
the pocketbook belonged. Haynes’ store hap- 
pened to be on my way home, so it was a com- 
paratively easy matter to persuade Casper to 
let me return it to him. I scented a reward of 
no small dimensions, but I didn’t tell Casper 
that; I led him to believe that hearty thanks 
were all that would be given. Nor did I after- 
wards tell him that Mr. Haynes, who was an 
easy-going, liberal soul, had given me ten dol- 
lars, an amount which at that time seemed a 
small fortune. For some weeks after this 
occurrence my eyes were glued to the pave- 
ment every time I went up street, while my 
mind was tilled with visions of gold-filled 


32 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


pocketbooks, the owners of which it was im- 
possible to discover. 

I wasn’t a bad boy; most of the escapades 
I originated were conceived and carried out 
in a spirit of pure fun. There was nothing 
spiteful in our minds when we stole — or, as 
we put it at the time, borrowed — Mr. Coulson’s 
buckets of paint one night, and painted the prim 
Miss Brown’s fence red, white and blue; nor 
was there malice in our prank when we gath- 
ered all the stray dogs in town, big dogs, little 
dogs, yellow dogs, and put them into the in- 
closed yard of the stately Mrs. Henderson, a 
woman who thoroughly detested the canine 
race, even though it wasn’t Halloween when 
these things were done. 

On one occasion it was different; I confess 
it was malicious; but I felt then and I still 
feel that our act was at least partially justified. 
Like all boys we considered melon patches priv- 
ileged foraging grounds. Hence it was not 
strange that the large and lucious fruit in Huck- 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 33 


ster Erkheimer’s garden should attract our at- 
tention and receive a visit from us. Erkheimer 
looked on the matter from a different point of 
view, and he sent us flying from the place with 
a few small shot in our bodies. We were far 
enough away when the shot struck us to make 
it practically harmless, and though no serious 
damage was done, the spirit of revenge was 
aroused in us. This feeling washeightened when 
we accidently overheard Erkheimer boasting 
over the incident in the public square the next 
day; and when he went so far as to assert that 
he would fill the hides of the unknown in- 
truders with heavy buckshot if they ever en- 
tered his garden again, defiance was aroused 
in us. He had, to our minds, thrown down the 
gauntlet, questioned our prowess, cast a doubt 
on our courage, defied us. Erkheimer must get 
his just deserts, while we (the unknown depre- 
dators)! must be vindicated. We would have 
our revenge for the sting of small shot, demon- 
strate our strategic powers, prove our courage, 


34 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 


and at the same time give the boasting huck> 
ster his well deserved punishment. It did not 
take me long to lay out a plan of campaign. 
Erkheimer’s melon patch was in a compara- 
tively safe place. There were no trees about 
it to cast shadows, and as it was moonlight at 
the time this was a most important point; be- 
sides, it was right under Erkheimer’s bedroom 
window; and from this window he could see 
every foot of the patch. The difficulties that 
beset us were great, but my plan was sufficiently 
well conceived to overcome them. It was quite 
simple. We all donned suits the color of the 
ground; even our caps, which almost covered 
our heads; our gloves (we wore gloves 
on this occasion) and our shoes were of 
the same color. As we entered the patch with 
knives in our hands we purposely made con- 
siderable noise, in order to attract the boaster’s 
attention, and thus make our victory the more 
complete. Erkheimer arose, poked his gun out 
of the window, and looked and looked and 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 35 


looked for us, but it was impossible for him to 
see us. Having attracted his attention we went 
quietly about our work. We crawled all over 
the patch on our stomachs^ cutting both vines 
and melons into bits. The destruction was 
complete. We felt we had been vindicated. 
And the best of it was that old Erkheimer 
never discovered who did it, or how it was 
done. 


CHAPTER III. 


My first venture in business was when I 
was well along in my teens. I was offered the 
job of selling mowing machines and organs. A 
queer combination to be sure, but not so incon- 
gruous as one might think. Both articles were 
sold at the same place. The one was sold to the 
farmer, the other to his wife. Before starting 
out on this work I had to do a clever bit of work 
on my own account. The people with whom I 
was dealing required me to put up a couple of 
hundred dollars before letting me start. I 
didn’t have any money, nor was my father 
able to advance it for me. But the desire to 
get work and earn money had gotten a strong 
hold on me, so the money must be gotten some- 
how. I finally hit on a plan which worked out 
to perfection. In the course of my boyhood I 
had gathered together quite a collection of 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 37 


things dear to the heart of youth, such as 
knives, guns, drums, fiddles, etc. These I 
undertook to sell to my companions at prices 
which would have astounded an auctioneer. I 
was perfectly willing to “skin” the boys if 
only I could get the money I had to have. My 
persuasive tongue carried the day, for I not 
only got as much money as I wanted in ex- 
change for my treasures, but quite a handy little 
amount in addition. I didn't stop to think of 
the after results, when the boys found they had 
been duped ; I was going out into a new and 
larger world, and what cared I for their 
opinion ! 

With the money paid to my principals I was 
now ready. For a week before starting I 
studiously read circulars, pamphlets and books 
on both subjects, organs and mowing machines, 
so that when I got out on the road I was prob- 
ably better informed and better prepared to 
talk than the “experienced gent” who was sent 
along to teach me how to do the work. As a 


38 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 

matter of fact he was stupid ; in talking to the 
fanners and their wives he had a stereotyped 
manner, the same stale jokes, coarse witticisms, 
and bare-faced, and hence non-effective, flattery 
for all. He hadn’t sense enough to know that 
each man and woman must be approached dif- 
ferently, and even if he did, he was not bright 
enough to read their characters so as to find 
their weak spots, to know how to approach 
them and what to do and say ; he did not know 
when a joke was a valuable asset and when it 
would kill his case; nor did he know how or 
when to compliment. Tn fact, he was an ass as 
far as that business was concerned. 

After about two visits I took the reins in 
my own hands, and told my companion I would 
try my luck. Inexperienced as I was in the 
business, I was naturally bright, and, happily, 
was endowed with the talents which the “ex- 
perienced gent” lacked. I could read a man’s 
or woman’s character the moment I came in 
contact with them. Jiu-jitsu, the Japanese 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 39 


wrestlers’ art, is based on a study of man’s 
anatomy, with the idea of discovering and tak- 
ing advantage of the weak points. I was pro- 
ficient in a sort of mental jiu-jitsu; I quickly 
saw the weak points in a man or woman ; and, 
seeing them, I knew how to attack successfully. 
This power was born in me and had grown 
as I grew. When I started out on this first 
business venture it was not so fully developed as 
later on in life, but was sufficiently so to enable 
me to do a thriving business. On the first trip 
I did not do much except to learn to know my 
customers, tell a joke when apropos, pay a com- 
pliment when needed, putting it in such a subtle 
manner as not to appear as such, and yet please ; 
place worthless but outwardly attractive gew- 
gaws in the hands of idolized children, even 
giving the grown-ups presents (trifles) where 
I knew it would not offend, but delight. The 
second trip I got down to real work; T talked 
my goods up more freely, made a drive at the 
customers’ weak points, made the farmers my 


40 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


friends and the women my adorers. And I 
sold mowing machines and I sold organs. Dur- 
ing that summer I stocked the whole country 
roundabout with such a quantity of both these 
articles that I accomplished two things. I 
delighted the manufacturers beyond measure; 
and I made that section an unprofitable field for 
the seller of mowing machines or organs for 
years after. 

During the course of my work that summer 
I had some queer experiences and met some 
strange characters. Til only relate two or 
three cases. At one farm house I had evidently 
made a good impression with the man, but not 
with the wife ; possibly the latter was naturally 
possessed of an ugly temper. The old man in- 
sisted on my staying for dinner, saying I had 
had a hard drive and must be tired and hungry, 
which was the case. The wife gave me a dark 
look and said nothing. The fanner and I had 
an agreeable chat before the meal, but, manlike, 
we were both ready to respond as soon as the 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 41 


horn blew for dinner. When we sat down 
there was nothing there to eat except rye bread 
and small boiled potatoes — not even butter and 
salt. And nothing additional was served be- 
yond a glass of water. I don't know whether 
the husband was afraid of his wife, and hence 
didn't dare to say anything, or not. Anyway 
he kept both his temper and his tongue, and 
acted as if he were seated before the finest kind 
of a meal. It was plain to me I was not wanted 
as a guest, and I never became one again. 

On another occasion I took breakfast with 
a jolly and prosperous German farmer, a pillar 
in the Lutheran church. In this case there was 
a delicious lavishness about the meal. The 
variety was not great — sausage, fried potatoes, 
hot griddle cakes and coffee, but ah yvas served 
in an exceptionally tempting style — a large 
platter of sausage^ a big dish of nicely-turned 
fried potatoes and a plate of steaming hot cakes, 
mountain high. The fanner and his four stal- 
wart sons all bowed their heads while the old 


42 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


man said grace, which he did in a most devo- 
tional manner. As he finished with the 
“Amen !” he quickly added, with an emphasis : 
“Go ahead.*’ And with that he and his four sons, 
like a pack of pigs running to the trough, 
reached out their forks toward the pile of hot 
cakes. I was not prepared for such quick 
action, and the bountiful supply disappeared 
before my eyes before I got a chance to put 
my fork in. However, I had all I wanted 
later. 

On another trip I stopped at an old fanner’s 
house, where there were seven daughters, 
ranging in age from seventeen to thirty. 
They were all robust looking and rather 
pretty, but the beaus had been scarce; 
at least none showing a tendency to 
get down to business had yet appeared. 
This seemed strange, for they were all strong 
and had been trained, not only in household 
matters, but also in outside work. It was 
known all over the district that each girl was 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 43 


capable of chopping a hundred rails a day. A 
short time before I was there the farmer had 
created a sensation by making it known that 
he would give each of the girls $250 in cash 
on her wedding day. This had excited all the 
eligible young farmers, for a dowry of $250 
was something unheard of in that vicinity. 
The beaus began to appear like flies in August. 
But the old farmer had another surprise in 
store. They were met with a shotgun and 
warned to approach at their peril. In a number 
of instances they were fired at, although, for- 
tunately for the lovers, they were not hit. It 
turned out afterward that this was strategy on 
the part of the old fellow ; and it was complete- 
ly successful. He understood human nature; 
he knew the money offer would attract the men, 
and also that ostensible parental opposition 
would fan the flame of love into a consuming 
blaze. His philosophy was sound. Every one 
of his seven daughters was married within the 
year, and, as he remarked to a neighbor, ‘^no 


44 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 

longer eating their heads off” at home. But 
to return to the thread of my story. 

★ ^ 

In the course of the following summer an 
incident occurred which clearly demonstrated 
the persuasive powers of my tongue even if it 
did not turn out as expected. Having given 
my farmer friends at the scene of my previous 
summer’s operations a surfeit of my two 
articles of commerce, I sought new fields. A 
wealthy county in the southern end of the state 
was selected — farming was good and profitable 
there, and besides, coal mining was so good 
that many of the miners, as well as the officers 
and owners, had money. I did not make a mis- 
take in my choice ; the business I did there was 
good. The farmers were all soon provided 
with more mowing machines than they could 
profitably use, while the farmers’ wives had 
organs to burn. The coal officials were also 
made to feel that they would not measure up 
to their supposed top-notch standing in the com- 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 46 


munity if they did not possess one of my 
organs ; they all purchased. Some of the more 
thrifty miners were next approached and I 
made fine progress here also. 

While I was busily engaged in this part of 
my work the miners were becoming very much 
worked-up over some alleged grievances ; 
finally a meeting was called for a certain Sat- 
urday to discuss the questions at issue and to 
decide whether or not to go on a strike. I 
went to the meeting, as I thought it would be 
a good opportunity to make the acquaintance 
of the leading miners, and by showing sym- 
pathy for their cause, to get their good will. 
This would be of advantage to me later on. 
During my stay in that part of the world I had 
become familiar with the workings of the 
mines and the various trade terms used. I knew 
all about checkweighmen and their duties ; 
words ‘^tipples,” “screens,’' “entries,” “rooms,” 
“ribs” and “pit wagons,” and their significance 
were as familiar to me as my primer had been in 


46 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


niy school days. During many evening talks in 
the hotel reading room I had learned much of 
the history of the strikes which had taken place 
in that district in years gone by. The facts re- 
garding the present grievances were also an 
open book to me. So that I was perfectly 
familiar with what was going on and the rea- 
sons for it. 

The meeting took place in a ravine about 
two miles back from the town where I was 
staying. It was a barren and deserted locality 
except for a few miners’ houses which were 
perched on the hillside, fronting on the country 
road which made its way along. There was 
a sort of natural platform, made of rocks, which 
overlooked the broad bottomland where the 
men gathered. On this the leaders and speak- 
ers stood. I insinuated myself into their good 
graces and succeeded in getting a place on this 
select spot. The meeting was called to order 
by the district leader, who, in a few well chosen 
words, explained why they had gathered there. 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 47 


He was followed by several other speakers who 
made more or less fiery remarks, only one dar- 
ing to make an address advocating conservative 
action. Finally I got up to speak, having been 
granted permission by the district leader, with 
whom I had become on quite good terms. It 
was the first time I had ever attempted to ad- 
dress so large an audience ; certainly never be- 
fore had I looked into such a sea of eager faces 
as on this occasion. The excitement all around 
and the apparent avidity with which my words 
were drunk in acted as an inspiration, and led 
me on into the making of an oratorical effort, 
so well conceived, so perfectly put together, 
delivered with such fire and zeal, that my audi- 
ence was completely carried off its feet. The 
two points on which the miners were agitated 
on this particular occasion were the size of the 
screens and the ‘*pluck-me” company 
stores. The speakers who had preceded 
me confined themselves strictly to the 
points at issue. My knowledge of lit- 


48 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 

erature and my experience in the world 
had taught me that the way to make an 
effective speech was : First to recite the history 
of the previous strikes, building up the tower 
of wrongs stone by stone until they reached a 
great height, then putting the wrongs of the 
present on as a cap-stone, thus making the 
metaphoric edifice complete and impressive. 
This I did. I referred to the great battle they 
had had to get a checkweighman at the mines ; 
told how the operators had added pounds to 
the bushel and yet wanted the miners to dig 
at the same rate ; how they had fought against 
this iniquity and finally won out ; what a strug- 
gle they had had to limit the number of pit 
wagons ; how hard they had to fight to get the 
number of hours brought within decent bounds ; 
how, when they came to measure the coal on 
the ton basis, they had to wage a long and hard 
battle to get the rate raised a mere twenty-five 
cents per ton ; what struggles they had to get a 
decent settlement of the rib question, the width 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 49 


of the entry and the width and length of the 
rooms. After going into great detail on all 
these questions and dwelling with stress on the 
injustice that had been done, and which on 
other occasions had been attempted, I at length 
reached the causes which led up to the present 
grievances. My climax was something superb 
and it caused a great furore in the assemblage. 
I particularly singled out the superintendent 
of the mine and the manager of the “pluck-me’' 
store for my strongest terms of denunciation, 
picturing them as fiends incarnate, and as fit 
and proper subjects for the most extreme meas- 
ures the miners might be disposed to take, I 
was led on to such length by the excitement of 
the moment, for the two men whom I thus pick- 
ed out for special attack, had been among my 
kindest acquaintances, and whatever other faults 
I may have ingratitude is not one. I ended my 
si>eech amid the most uproarious applause; 
such a wild demonstration I had never before 
seen. Men howled and yelled and cried aloud 


50 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 


tor action. Away off at the far corner of the 
crowd, where the country road ran off from the 
side of the hill to the lowlands, there arose a 
deafening cry. At first I did not know what 
it meant, but soon the cry became louder and 
more distinct. It was : 

‘‘Hang him up ! Hang him up ! The ‘cur,’ 
the ‘skinner,’ the ‘sucker !’ ” 

Then I saw men flourishing a rope, and 
making toward the roadway; next I saw them 
seize a lonely man, a looker-on, put the rope 
about his neck, and drag him toward where I 
and the other speakers were. Nearer and 
nearer they came, still keeping up the cry of 
“Hang him up ! The ‘skinner I’ ” Imagine my 
dismay when they got within a few feet of us 
to discover that their victim was James Ander- 
son, the keeper of the “pluck-me” store, the 
man whom I had just finished denouncing so 
outrageously, the man who had gone out of his 
way to be friendly to me. What was to be 
done ? I had not dreamed that my thoughtless, 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 51 


impassioned oratory would have the effect of 
arousing these men to such a fury that they 
would actually start to lynch a man. Under 
no circumstances could 1 permit such a crime 
to be committed as a result of anything I had 
said ; much less could I allow it to occur in this 
case where the victim was a man who had 
befriended me. I had denounced him without 
realizing the danger I put him in. I realized 
it now, however, and I was filled with horror 
when I thought of what would certainly happen 
unless I could do something to save him, and 
that something pretty quickly. I knew it would 
do no good to remonstrate with these fellows ; 
the plan must be one which would circumvent 
their designs. A quick glance ab<^)ut to get the 
lay of the land and my mind was made up. I 
was ready for action. 

“Men,” I cried at the top of my voice, 
“listen to me! Order! Order!” 

The noise ceased for a moment, and i went 
on : “Bring the ^skinner' here ; let me pull the 


62 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 

rope; Fll show you how to treat such dastard 
wretches. Give me two men to help, and we'll 
quickly string him up to the limb of yon oak 
tree, where all can see him hang." 

I pointed to a magnificent old oak which 
stood on the hill about twenty or thirty feet 
above our rock platform. A big limb stretched 
far out beyond all the surrounding trees, so that 
it could be seen by every man in that vast audi- 
ence. As luck would have it, my words had 
an effect; the poor fellow was turned over to 
me and the two assistants. Up the hill we 
went, our every movement watched by those 
many thousand eyes. When we reached the 
spot I told one of my assistants to take the end 
of the rope and climb the tree to put it over the 
limb indicated. This he did as quickly as he 
could. After a few moments of hard work he 
succeeded in reaching the limb and threw the 
rope over. My opportunity was now or never. 
I had worked a large knife out of my pocket 
and gottep the blade open, without attracting 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 53 


the attention of my remaining assistant. With 
one powerful cut I slit the rope about Ander- 
son’s neck, making him free, the same moment 
I gave my miner friend a strong push, send- 
ing him reeling down the steep hillside. I then 
seized Anderson, who was in a much weakened 
condition from his severe experience, by the 
arm and told him to hurry up the hill for his 
life. Before the astonished miners knew what 
was the matter we had climbed up to' the coun- 
try road, cut loose a horse which was tied there, 
jumped into the buggy and were off, lashing 
the horse into the greatest speed he was capa- 
ble of. As we dashed along we heard the 
mighty roar of the thousands of maddened 
men in the valley below, but we were out of 
their reach and had only to keep up our pace 
until we could get to the railway station, a few 
miles away, when a rescue would be beyond the 
bounds of possibility. Mr. Anderson couldn’t 
thank me too much for saving him, as he in- 
sisted, at the eminent risk of my own life. 


54 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 

‘‘For,” said he, “if your audacious plan 
had not been carried out successfully you also 
would hav e been strung up at the other end of 
the same line.” 

I said nothing, but was heartily thankful 
that I had been saved from being the murderer 
of a friend, which I would have been if Mr. 
Anderson had been lynched. It was quite a 
while before I got over the shock arising from 
the narrow escape I had had from such a dread- 
ful fate. 


CHAPTER IV. 


There was no reason for it, but this inci- 
dent turned me against selling mowing 
machines and organs. Mowing machines and 
organs could not be held responsible for what 
I had done ; it was my unruly tongue ; my reck- 
less, dare-devil spirit and my greed for gold. 
Nevertheless I decided to drop that business, 
a business that had been extremely profitable 
to me, and which would probably have con- 
tinued to be for some time to come. I had 
saved up most of my profits and these I in- 
vested in a good corner location in the city, 
paying down one-third of the purchase price 
in cash and putting on a mortgage for the re- 
mainder. The fact that I had this mortgage 
standing against me made me all the more 
feverishly desirous of making money. I looked 
around for a time to see what was the most 


66 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 

promising field to enter. I realized that my 
forte lay in personal solicitation of men ; but 
what was the best thing to offer them was a 
question. There wasn’t much in it, to merely 
go out as an agent of a grocery house or a dry 
goods establishment; nor did I consider the 
higher grades of drummers, who sold the out- 
put of iron and steel or of glass companies, to be 
the best suited for me. I felt that I was not 
adapted to that kind of work, nor were the 
emoluments up to what I expected to get. 
Finally I found a work which I considered of 
a more elevating character, and which had 
boundless possibilities in the matter of making 
money. I would become a solicitor for the 
sale of books. Not one of the ordinary kind 
that go about from house to house, from store 
to store, or from office to office selling cheap 
novels or chekp editions of our great authors; 
oh, no ! that was beneath me, and, besides, there 
wasn’t a great deal in it. Possibly two or three 
thousand a year at the most, I knew I could 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 67 


do better than that with my extraordinary 
talents, and results proved that I did not hold 
too high an opinion of myself. I would sell 
the high-priced books, the editions de luxe, or 
nothing. To handle such works properly re- 
quired genius; the ability to read men's char- 
acters at sight ; the knack of handling them so 
adroitly that they believe in you and in your 
work, and believe, when you indicate to them 
that the books you offer are just what men of 
their brains and taste need, it is gospel truth; 
believe that their library nor their personal 
standing in the community would be what it 
should be if they failed to purchase. I used the 
words ‘‘indicate to them" advisedly, for no one 
but a mere tyro would think of “telling" the 
class of men who buy the editions de luxe these 
things; to do that would be to lose the battle 
at the start. I found that the secret of it all is 
flattery; how to administer this force so that 
the victim doesn't realize that he is getting it, 
requires the discrimination of a genius. I am 


58 C0NPE3SSI0NS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 


not egotistical when I say that I have that 
talent to an extreme degree. 

Having decided to enter this line of trade, 
I connected myself with one of the largest pub- 
lishing houses in the country that deals in high 
class publications. They didn’t touch any cheap 
trash; superb editions of the standard authors, 
in respect to printing, paper and binding, not 
to mention price, were their specialty. They 
would not permit any cheap or crude salesmen 
to represent them ; they knew it would be ridic- 
ulous, if not fatal to do so. Their solicitor must 
be gentlemanly in appearance, dress in the most 
fashionable attire, have Chesterfield! an man- 
ners, be gifted in speech, have a wide knowl- 
edge of literature, or failing that, the ability to 
conceal their literary limitations under any and 
all circumstances, and last — I should possibly 
say first — the faculty of reading men’s char- 
acters. I was able to satisfy the publishing 
house in all particulars. I suppose the same 
characteristic which afterward enabled me to 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 69 


do such fine work in sellin^^ books made it possi- 
ble for me to secure an engagement with the 
discriminating gentleman who put me through 
the examination. The only particular in which 
I failed at the outstart was in my knowledge 
of literature, but after a few weeks’ instruction 
in the publishing house’s school I was equal to 
the best. My natural quickness for ‘‘catching 
on” stood me in go • ! stead. During this 
same period I was in.structed in all the duties 
of the business — what to do and what not to do. 
If a man kept within the limits set by the 
“house,” none of the public could possibly 
object. The instructions were very simple. A 
gentlemanly manner and good address were the 
medium by which we were to get into touch 
with people; the knowledge of literature and 
the power of imparting that knowledge, were 
the instruments which we were to use in effect- 
ing a sale. To teach the ignorant what is good, 
to prove to the cultivated that we have not only 
the very best, but that which he cannot afford 


«0 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 

to do without, was our work ; and this is what 
the ‘‘house” sent its agents out to do, and what 
I suppose most of them do do. In doing such 
work, and doing it well^the agents sell many 
books and make for themselves fine incomes. 
If I had gone no further I would have had 
nothing to regret ; no qualms of conscience, for 
I had a conscience in those days, and so did 
many other of my fellow agents, although the 
popular impression was that we had none. I 
was not satisfied with the handsome profit that 
came with perfectly proper canvassing. I felt 
that I must have more, more, more. I knew it 
was in me to get more, and more I would have. 

So when I was assigned to a large western 
city as my territory, and having worked along 
quite successfully on the regular lines for a 
time, I began to use my wits. As I went about 
my work from office to office I made a most 
rninute study of the rich men of the city ; I 
learned their fads and fancies ; their secret little 
weaknesses which they never confided to others 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 61 


and very often did not even acknowledge to 
themselves. Many of these little weaknesses 
were not apparent to the ordinary observer, 
but to me, with my keen scent for everything 
of that nature, they were as an open book. My 
next move was to make use of this knowledge, 
and to do this successfully required as much 
tact and skill as did the discovery of the weak- 
ness in the first place. But I had it m me, and 
it was not long until I was doing a phenomenal 
trade. 

To give you an idea of the character of this 
work I will relate an instance : One of my cus- 
tomers was a wealthy lumberman. Fll call him 
Mr. Wood, although that is not his name. He 
started out in life a poor boy, drifted west in 
the early days, saw the possibilities that lay in 
the lumber business. He got a good job, saved 
his pennies and dollars, and in a few years was 
able to buy a small tract of timber land. He 
had a fine head for business and managed things 
so well that it was no time before he bought 


62 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 

another tract ; then another and another. 
At thirty-five he found himself a mil- 
lionaire and daily adding to his money. 
When I arrived in this city he was 
located in magnificent offices in one 
of the finest blocks in town. Naturally he had 
become an easy mark for agents of all kinds. 
All the gentlemen in my profession, and in all 
similar ones, made a bee line for Mr. Wood’s 
office immediately on reaching town, in the 
hope of doing business with him. At first he 
was easy game ; almost any agent of good ad- 
dress would “work” him; but after a little he 
became more wary; he was “worked” too 
much. It became quite difficult to get into 
touch with him, and still more difficult to do 
any business. This was the condition of affairs 
when I arrived. After much maneuvering I 
succeeded in getting an audience with Mr. 
Wood, but I soon discovered that the usual 
methods of effecting a sale would not avail. 
He was not impressed with the literary halo I 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS. 63 


tried to throw over my goods, nor was he 
dazzled by the de luxe character of the covers. 
I was growing rather dubious about any good 
result coming after all my labor in first trying 
to get to him, and then in expatiating at such 
great length on the quality of what I had for 
sale, when he made a slight movement which 
revealed to me as quickly as a flash of lightning 
the course to take to win. The secret was out. 
His weakness was his foot. During the course 
of our conversation he from time to time cast 
furtive glances downward, and whenever he 
thought I noticed it a sort of guilty look came 
over his face. For a long time I did not know 
what to make of this, but I was on the alert to 
discover a solution of the mystery. Finally 
when his eyes rested a little longer and more 
boldly on the feet, I realized the truth. I knew 
I had him ; he simply needed to be played with 
as a good fisherman plays with his catch ; if he 
was properly handled he was mine as sure as 
fate. I knew I needed some preparation for 


64 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS. 

the work before me, for I at once determined to 
land the gentleman for something big. I was 
nettled at the way in which he had parried all 
my efforts to get at him, for I looked on it as 
a reflection on my professional ability ; I felt 
as if he had given me a personal affront by 
keeping me at arm's length; and so he would 
have to pay dearly. I quickly took my leave, 
after thanking him for his courtesy in giving 
so much of his valuable time, and expressing 
the hope that he would permit me to see him 
some time again. He evidently enjoyed the 
conversation, and possibly secretly exulted over 
the masterly way in which he had balked my 
every effort to reach him. It had been a battle 
of wits and he had won — for the time being. 

On my next visit I was thoroughly pre- 
pared, I had spent a day in the public library, 
and had read everything that was written about 
feet, from Shakespeare’s 

“Here comes the lady! oh, so light a foot 
Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint” 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 65 


to the lines in Mickle’s, the Scotsman’s, 
"‘Mariner’s Wife,” 

“His very foot has music in it 
As he comes up the stairs.” 

Less poetical but more practical treatises 
on the uses and abuses of the foot, the lines 
of the really artistic foot, etc., did not escape 
my notice. I knew more about feet than I ever 
dreamed there was to know about one's pedal 
extremities. If Mr. Wood knew half as much 
he was a dandy, but I discovered later he con- 
fined his study of the foot principally to his 
own. 

The shoes I wore on the occasion of this 
second visit to Mr. Wood were one-half again 
too large for me, but were nicely stuffed in 
order not to give this fact away. On entering 
I seated myself so as to put my big feet in 
a place where they would stand out in 
This move of mine worked beautifully; I was 
convinced I could see it working on his mind, 
and there was no doubt about the look of satis- 


66 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

faction which came over his face, each moment 
this becoming more pronounced. After the 
ground was thus thoroughly prepared I ven- 
tured to call attention to the subject, at first 
dealing very gently with it, but later on, when 
his pride in his possession overcame any feel- 
ing of embarrassment he might feel, I began 
to ‘‘put it on pretty thick,’' as the flatterers say. 
Well might friend Wood have read and profited 
by Sir Walter Raleigh’s advice : 

“Take care thou be not made a fool by 
flatterers, for even the wisest men are abused 
by these.” 

If any man was ever made a fool of by an- 
other Wood was by me. As I warmed up to 
my work I could see him gradually weakening, 
gradually becoming mine, mine to do with as 
I wanted. Without wearying you with long 
details as to how I connected yp the agreeable 
discussion of feet with the purchase of a dozen 
sets of the standard authors, edition de luxe, 
I merely say it was done, with a fine large 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 67 

profit to me, while the expense to Mr. Wood ran 
into more than three figures. I had won out 
in the end. It was a many months' wonder 
to other sales agents as to how I had done it, 
but I never told. Even Mr. Wood himself did 
not realize that I had “worked" him, for on 
the occasion of other visits to that city I was 
able to do more business with him on the same 
plan, although, of course, I didn't dare to do it 
too often, lest a smart man like he would “catch 
on." Some of my competitors said it was 
hypnotism; but was it? Well, you can call it 
that if you choose; but if so, I assure you it is 
hypnotism of such a character that it can only 
be worked where a man's pet fancy has run 
away with his ordinary supply of common 
sense. 

Another weakness, prevalent to a much 
greater degree, is the hand. I mentioned before 
that the first thing I did on arriving in a city 
I proposed to canvass, was to learn the name 
of every wealthy man (which meant every 


«8 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 


probably customer), and then study his his- 
tory carefully and minutely. This was always 
an easy thing to do, for there is not a city in the 
land where the leading men, the men who have 
money to burn, have not been written up many 
times over. To be armed with this information 
when calling on a man is most advantageous; 
and when such a general knowledge of facts is 
supplemented with a knowledge of their private 
fads — a fondness for horses, for dogs, for base- 
ball, golf, tennis, for hunting or fishing, for 
automobiling, for poker or other games of cards 
— ^you can feel assured that your battle is more 
than half won. All these things can be learned 
by loitering about sporting goods houses, 
at the clubs, the swell barber shops, 
or the favorite bars. It is also quite 
easy to learn who the customers of the 
manicures are. But as this weakness is 
more general it is also the more easily detected, 
and more frequently made use of by others in 
my line. Hence while in every city I went to I 


CONJf^SSIONS OF A MODttRN MtDAft ^ 


had a number of customers whose gfood graces 
I got into through judicious illusions to the 
graceful proportions of their hands, there was 
no chance to make a big stake, as had been the 
case with Mr. Wood. 

One curious nature I ran up against in a 
Pacific coast city was that of a Col. Mullins. 
He had been a gentleman in the east, but hard 
up. He went west and into the mines, where 
he worked along for some years among the 
rough men who do the hard work, dressing 
like them, eating with them, taking part in 
their rough pastimes, but never forgetting or 
entirely losing the gentlemanly instincts and 
habits he had acquired in his youth. After 
plodding in this way for a long, long time, 
taking chances now and again in some new 
prospect ever to no purpose, he one day woke 
up to find one of his investments succesful. 
Then success seemed to follow success, and in 
a short time he was a millionaire with offices 
in the coast city instead of the hard-working 


70 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

miner down in the bowels of the earth. At this 
stage of his career a struggle took place ; 
should he dress in the conventional way like 
those about him in the city, and toward which 
his useful training also impelled him, or should 
he do like certain other suddenly-grown-rich 
miners — sniff at custom, dress in the careless 
fashion of his late fellow-workers to show them 
that he was not stuck-up, that his sudden 
wealth had not turned hi^i from those or the 
ways of those he had been associating 
with for years. He decided to dress like the 
miners. He apparently despised style and 
rather enjoyed being looked on as a man from 
the backwoods, an unsophisticated specimen 
from the mountains. It is related of him that 
on his trips to the large cities of the east he 
would accentuate this backwoods character of 
dress and actions in order to enjoy the surprise 
and discomfiture of the servants of the public 
in railroad trains and hotels, when they dis- 
covered who he was, and that his knowledge 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 71 


of men and affairs was as great or greater than 
their own and his wealth far beyond their wild- 
est expectations. Most book canvassers failed 
to see through Col. Mullins; they imagined that 
the way to approach him was to come to him 
in rather rough attire, to act as if he were 
rough and a tough, to treat him as an igno- 
ramus, who had to be taught the value of books 
in general, and which ones were especially 
suitable for the building up of a library. They 
made a sorry mess of it ; they were really play- 
ing right into his hands; he was making fools 
of them instead of the reverse. I have no 
doubt that the “Colonel’^ had many a quiet 
laugh over the asinine efforts of these men to 
put, as they thought, much needed knowledge 
into him. 

When I first made his acquaintance I also 
took him to be a rough customer. I had heard 
what others had had to say, and had listened 
quite attentively to the hard-luck tales of my 
competitors who had failed to make any im* 


72 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 


pression on his rough exterior, and who in their 
(as I afterwards found to be) stupid estimate 
of the man had probably trod on his toes many 
a time. The first time I called I made no at- 
tempt to do any business; my object was to 
first make a thorough study of the man; to 
learn his secret, for that there was some vulner- 
able point in his armor I was certain. My close 
observation soon demonstrated to me that his 
supposed rough dress was in a way most re- 
fined — it was a case of artistic carelessness. 
He wanted to appear rough like the men he 
had worked among for years, but the innate re- 
finement, the artistic sense in respect to color 
and dress, which his mother away back east 
had instilled into him long years before, could 
not be surpressed; no more could his gentle- 
manly manners and instincts be relegated to 
the rear ; there he was, a would-be rough-look- 
ing citizen, but really artistically dressed and 
a gentleman through and through. I acted on 
my discovery, and it is needless to say that Col, 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 73 


Mullins became one of my best customers and 
continued to be as long as I kept in the busi- 
ness. I treated him on the whole fairly, 
although I could not resist the temptation on 
a few occasions, when I felt I needed a little 
extra money, to '‘work” him on his weakness, 
for this desire of his to appear what he was not, 
comes in that category. His posing thus con- 
stituted a fraud on the public. I felt that he 
ought to be punished for it, and I was ready to 
inflict the penalty if I could do so profitably. 

Mr. Perkins, a “shoe king,” was another 
queer individual. I became acquainted with 
him while working in an eastern city. He came 
up from nothing, and was proud of it. He was 
a barefooted boy, but when grown up was the 
maker of shoes for millions of his fellow men. 
His weakness was to exhibit an utter disdain 
for publicity. He wanted his brand of shoes 
to be known from end to end of the world, but 
as for himself he wanted none of it. He didn't 
want his name in the newspapers, and he 


74 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 


frowned when a solicitor came along for his 
picture for use in public print. Thus he spake, 
and did so, so frequently and emphatically, that 
I began to feel that he ‘‘protested too much.*’ 
I felt certain he was the kind of man who, 
while thus loudly protesting in public, would 
slip around to the back door of the newspaper 
offices in his eager desire to get publicity; or 
would complacently ride into print on the 
shoulders of his socially active wife. The 
ordinary solicitor finds this type of man for- 
bidding, gruff and non-approachable ; the man 
who can see through him, considers him the 
easiest sort of victim. I found him exception- 
ally easy, and on account of the porcupine 
sharpness with which he at first attempted to 
ward me off, I made him do more than I had 
intended. Hence it was that in addition to all 
the standard works I got him to invest in, I 
actually succeeded in getting him to take a set 
of Hans Sachs’ work, that is, his verified 
Psalms and Proverbs, his sacred and other 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 75 


comedies and tragedies, all that I could find of 
that writer. These I had bound in full moroc- 
co, calf-tipped, beveled edges, to match other 
books in his library. He took them on account 
of Sachs being “The Shoemaker Poet,” a point 
I had not failed to impress upon him ; the fact 
that they were in the original German, of which 
he knew not a word, made no difference. It 
was the sentiment that counted — the “Shoe 
King” owning a complete set, beautifully 
bound, of the works of “The Shoemaker Poet” 
— this idea pushed home vigorously made the 
sale easy. Had I known of any other “Shoe- 
maker Poets” I could have sold Mr. Perkins 
his writings, too. 



CHAPTER V. 


I had a decidedly interesting and profitable 
experience in a large western city. I started 
out with the sole purpose of driving my trade 
in the usual way, but my dealings with Mr. 
Cyrus Smith soon took on an independent and 
unique character. This Mr. Smith was a dia- 
mond in the rough. As has been the case with 
so many of our American millionaires he was 
born of poor but respectable parents. They 
lived on a farm in Central Illinois; It wasn't 
much of a farm and they had to work hard 
to make both ends meet. Cyrus’ boyhood days 
were strenuous; he had to work from early 
morning until late at night, and there was but 
little time left for any schooling, except for a 
short time in the winter. So he grew to man- 
hood with fully developed muscles, but not 
much book learning. He had naturally, how- 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 77 


ever, a constructive mind, and during the pro- 
gress of time this developed in spite of the in- 
auspicious nature of his surroundings. From 
time to time he astonished the stupid, non- 
progressive farming people living round about, 
by his introduction of new methods of doing 
the work, which added wonderfully to the pro- 
ductiveness of his parents’ possessions, or saved 
much in the expenditure of labor. But it was 
not until Cyrus Smith had gone to the city in 
which he made his immense fortune that his 
executive ability had much opportunity to prop- 
erly develop. He tired of the farm at 
sixteen, went to the city, got a job 
as street car conductor for lack of any- 
thing better ; I doubt if he was suited 
for anything better at the time. Two 
years later, having saved every cent possible, 
he left his street car and bought a horse and 
dray. He worked independently, picking up 
all the odd jobs obtainable, but he was so quick, 
careful and obliging that he soon had more 


78 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

work than he could handle. From his savings 
he bought another horse and dray, hired a man 
to drive it, but kept it under his own super- 
vision. The same quick, careful and obliging 
methods characterized the operations of this 
second dray, and the trade rushed to it, too. So 
it was with a third dray, and a fourth and a 
fifth that Mr. Smith added to his possessions in 
quick succession ; and in a few years he was the 
proprietor of a large draying company, which, 
being managed on the same simple and careful 
plan that his original dray had been, became a 
popular money-making concern. Mr. Smith, 
for no one called him “Cy'' now, as had been 
the case earlier in his career, was quite prosper- 
ous, and was sought out by the best business 
men of the city to join them in various money- 
making ventures. He was shrewd and dis- 
criminating; his hard life had sharpened his 
business wits, and it was seldom, if ever, that he 
was led into enterprises which were unprofit- 
able. In fact, the things he went into were so 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 79 


uniformly profitable that it became customary 
after a time for a prospective investor, when 
stock in some new business venture was offered, 
to ask : “Is Mr. Cyrus Smith in it ?” And if 
the answer was in the affirmative he allowed 
his name to be immediately put down on the 
subscription blank. 

Of course Mr. Smith became wealthy ; and 
— to go back to myself and my business — was 
the rallying point for people in my line. When 
I came, I found I was a little late calling, there 
had been too many solicitors there in advance ; 
Mr. Smith was pretty well stocked up for a 
man of his limited education ; I had to acknowl- 
edge to myself, though not to him, that his 
library was full to overflowing. I neverthe- 
less succeeded in selling him a couple of sets, 
say $500 worth; this was probably because he 
found me good company, or, as he put it, “be- 
cause he always liked to help the boys along.*’ 
But my sales stopped here; I could sell him 
nothing more. I couldn’t appeal to his literary 


80 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 


yearnings, for he hadn’t any; I couldn’t even 
impress him with the duty he owed his growing 
family of providing it a home with literary 
atmosphere, even by adding that this carried 
with it social distinction and prominence. 
Those were good points, but they had been 
“worked” too often before by my book-selling 
predecessors, and they palled on his taste. It 
seemed to bad that I could do so little in a rich 
field such as Mr. Smith ought to be. 

In the course of the several conversations 
I had with Mr. Smith I discovered there was 
one fact of which he was proud; that was his 
name. This seemed strange to me, for in my 
wanderings in the various cities from the At- 
lantic to the Pacific I had met few, if any of the 
name, who were proud of it. In fact, in a large 
number of cases there was such an utter lack 
of that feeling that the owners frequently 
spelled it otherwis.e than plain Smith. In the 
case of Mr. Cyrus Smith there was less reason 
for being unduly puffed up over the family 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 8l 


name than in that of many others. For so far 
as he knew the line of his family didn’t go 
back farther than his father, the poor strug- 
gling Illinois farmer. He didn’t know what 
his grandfather's given name was, where he 
lived, or what his calling had been. Neverthe- 
less Mr. Smith was proud of the name, and 
proud of the Smith family in general. Why 
this was so he couldn’t say — he didn’t know. 
Mr. Smith and I had several conversations 
on the subject, all barren of results. One 
evening after one of these talks an inspiration 
came to me in the shape of a question : 

Why couldn’t this family pride of his be 
utilized in some way for my benefit? 

I put in that evening and the following day 
in studying the problem, and finally evolved a 
plan which, if successfully carried out, meant 
a rich reward. My thoughts on the subject 
had resolved about these two questions : 

“Why shouldn’t Mr. Smith be proud of the 
Smith family?” There were surely enough 


82 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 

eminent Smiths in the history of the English 
speaking race to make any man bearing the 
name feel proud. 

The second question was somewhat more 
practical ; 

“How could. I, by going to the trouble of 
educating Mr. Smith in the history of the 
Smith family, by teaching him that he had 
much to be proud pf, more than the bearer of 
any other name, make it pecuniarily advantage- 
ous to me ?” 

These two questions I answered in a way 
satisfactory to myself. As usual, having 
worked out my plan of campaign, I went 
direct to the public library to properly inform, 
myself. I read up the history of every Smith 
who had done anything from the earliest times 
down to the present, and having filled my 
brain with data I sought my prey. For Mr. 
Cyrus Smith had become such. It had 
chagrined me previously to think that Mr. 
Smith was going to get off with buying a pal- 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MiDAS 83 


try $500 worth of books — no man of his wealth 
had ever done so, nor could he be permitted 
to. My dander was up. 

In the next three weeks we had many long 
talks. After my first two conversations, in 
which I showed him why he should be proud 
of his name, he found me such an entertaining 
fellow that he invited me out to his palatial 
residence to spend the evening. Here he had 
more time, and we could talk on with less in- 
terruption. The talks grew in interest to Mr. 
Smith, and so I became a more and more fre- 
quent visitor (on his invitation) to the house. 
It took a full three weeks to entangle him so 
completely as to put him at my mercy. 

I started out by telling about Adam Smith, 
but although Adam Smith's philosophy was far 
above and beyond my friend's comprehension, 
I knew he would be interested in it. He was 
greatly. He listened intently through my 
hasty sketch of the great philosopher's career, 
and when I finally gave Mackintosh’s crowning 


84 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

sentence in his criticism of Smith’s ‘‘Wealth 
of Nations”— that it was “perhaps the only 
book which produced an immediate general and 
irrevocable change in some of the most im- 
portant parts of the legislation of nations,” 
Mr. Smith jumped up and clapped his hands 
in glee,. 

“Capital ! Capital !” he said, “that is a man 
of whom every Smith should be proud. It’s • 
certain I am; I feel like thanking the Lord 
for giving me the name.” ■ 

I next took up tile military Smiths, con- 
fining my remarks to men who had attained 
the rank of general; I said the colonels, 
majors, captains and lieutenants, virhile many 
had been brave and valiant officers, were too 
numerous to mention in detail. There were 
enough generals of the name, famous for their 
skillful and brave conduct, to consume an even- 
ing of our time. I then recounted the principal 
events in the careers of General Green Clay 
Smith, Gustavus N. Smith, Charles F. Smith, 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 85 


Edmund Kirby Smith and William F. Smith, 
all of whom were highly distinguished, and 
most of whom had done excellent service in 
the late Civil War. As I vividly described the 
battles in which these heroes had taken part, 
throwing especial emphasis on their individual 
action, I could see Cyrus’ honest old eyes open 
wide, and a smile of such perfect satisfaction 
come over his face that was a delight to look 
upon; 

In connection with the history of the gen- 
erals, I told briefly the life story of Rear Ad- 
miral Melancthon Smith, the famous American 
naval officer, who, as commander, had fought 
so valiantly under Farragut at the battle of 
New Orleans; and Sir William Sidney Smith, 
the English naval commander, who distinguish- 
himself by his skill and bravery in the defense 
of St. Jean d’Acre against Napoleon, com- 
pelling the French army to raise the siege after 
he had captured the French fleet. 

I followed my talks on those modern war- 


86 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

fiors with a description of the wild and daring 
career of Captain John Smith, the founder of 
Virginia. I carried him through his adven- 
tures in Europe, Asia, Africa and America, 
giving the details in as graphic a manner as 
I was capable of ; ending with the scene where 
Pocahontas saved his life. He, of course, knew 
of this Smith, for what boy or girl that has 
gone to school doesn't? but there were many 
points in his life's story which he didn't know 
and which he drank in with eager attention. 
As a sort of preparation for what was coming 
later on, I took occasion to remark that Captain 
John Smith had written several books, recol- 
lections of what he had seen and done, and was 
really quite a great writer. 

I next briefly, but in as interesting a way 
as I could, told of the achievements of James 
Smith, the Scottish inventor of a reaping 
machine and other machinery; of James S. 
Smith, one of the signers of the Declaration 
of Independence; of Gerritt S, Smith, the 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 87 

American philanthropist and temperance advo- 
cate ; of Dr. Robert Smith, the bishop, who 
wrote the preface to the American Book of 
Common Prayer; of John Stafford Smith, the 
English composer who gained fame a century 
ago by his glees and madrigals, which have 
much merit; of Samuel Francis Smith, the 
American Baptist divine of the last century, 
who composed '‘My Country, ’Tis of Thee,” 
and a large number of other hymns and lyrics ; 
of George Smith, the Englishman, world-famed 
as an assyriologist ; of Daniel B. Smith, the 
Quaker, who founded the Friends^ High 
School at Haverford, which later became 
Haverford College; of Erasmus Peshim Smith, 
the New York jurist who, in 1871, became the 
adviser of international law to the Mikado of 
Japan; of William Henry Smith, the Conser- 
vative politician, who was the first lord of the 
admiralty and secretary of war in England in 
the eighties; of Benjamin Leigh Smith,' the 
farrious Arctic explorer;' and of the noted 


^ COI^I^KS$10N8 OF A MODFRH MJpA$ 


artists; Thomas L. Smith, associate of the 
National Academy, wonderfully clever in win- 
ter subjects ; the three English brothers, 
George, John and William, the two former dis- 
tinguished for their landscapes, and the latter 
for his skill as a portrait painter ; and finally of 
John Raphael Smith, a much esteemed Eng- 
lish portrait painter of King George the Third^s 
reign. 

Following this I hastily ran over a long 
list of physicians and surgeons, ministers, 
jurists, business men, etc., who bore the name 
of Smith, and who had attained more or less 
fame; they were all able men and in most in- 
stances had become known and esteemed far 
beyond their own community and state. In 
one case I touched but lightly — ^Joseph Smith, 
the author of the Book of Mormon and founder 
of the faith ; while I didn't wish to omit men- 
tioning him, I feared that perhaps Mr. Cyrus 
Smith might not relish his bearing the name. 
I said that while we all deplored Joseph Smith's 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 8» 


work we could not but admire the ability of 
the man, for all must acknowledge that his 
mental brilliancy, his firmness of purpose, his 
strength of character, his almost miraculous or- 
ganizing powers were far beyond those of the 
average man. 

“Yes, yes!” said Mr. Cyrus Smith, “that's 
it; we must recognize ability wherever we see 
it ; Fm sorry Joseph W3s a Mormon, but he was 
a great man anyway.” 

By this time it was apparent to me that 
Mr. Smith was so puffed up with pride over 
the family that I could safely proceed to make 
the final charge in the battle. He was ready 
to grow enthusiastic over anything, however 
light, but I was not going to attack him softly ; 
I had saved up the best ammunition and was 
going to fire it at him with Napolionic force. 
The splendid roster of literary Smiths had, 
outside of what I said about Adam Smith and 
Captain John Smith, scarcely been touched 
upon. It was by the use of these that I ex- 


90 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 

pected to win all I had been fighting for during 
the weeks I was entertaining Mr. Cyrus Smith. 

“Mr. Smith,” said I one evening, “what 
I have been telling you about the renowned 
members of the Smith family proves that the 
name is one to be proud of, and any one bearing 
it should be truly thankful. For while it may 
be difficult in individual cases to trace the rela- 
tionship, there can be no doubt that all bearers 
of the name are more or less related. I have 
become so impressed with the long list of nota- 
ble Smiths that it makes me sad to think I am 
not one of them. You should congratulate 
yourself over and over that you belong to the 
family.” 

Mr. Smith smiled benignly on me and as- 
sured me it was the greatest satisfaction of his 
life that he was a Smith. 

“And now, Mr. Smith,” I went on, “just 
listen to what I have here about the stars in 
the literary firmanent by the name of Smith. 
Of poets there are many, men and women, 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 91 


both English and American; the array is daz- 
zling. There is James Smith, the Scottish 
poet, who wrote humorous poems, many of 
them in the Scottish dialect ; Alexander Smith, 
another Scottish poet, whose principal fame 
rests on his ‘Life Drama’ and ‘Edwin of 
Deira;’ Mary Louise Riley Smith, the poetess, 
whose ‘Book of Poems’ met with great favor, 
and Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes Smith, the American 
poetess, whose ‘Sinless Child’ and ‘Jacob 
Leisler’ were read and re-read by our people; 
Saba Smith, the Maine poet, whose ‘Down 
East’ verses regaled our forefathers; Rev. 
Walter Chambers Smith, the Scotch Free 
church divine and poet, whose ‘Hilda Among 
the Broken Gods,’ ‘The Bishop’s Walk,’ etc 
were highly prized by the people of his day : 
Samuel J. Smith, the American poet of a cen- 
tury ago; and the two brothers, Englishmen, 
Horace and James Smith, who made the whole 
English nation split its sides laughing over their 
humorous poetical imitations of Coleridge, 


92 CONFESSIONS OP A MOOERN MIDAS 


Wordsworth, Scott, Byron and others — their 
poems ran through edition after edition, and 
the public never seemed to tire/' 

religious writers of note," I continued, 
"the Smith family is highly favored. There is 
John Page Smith, LL., D. D., the English 
theologian and divine, quite an extensive 
writer ; Henry Smith, the English puritan 
author ; Rev. Robert Payne Smith, the English 
Presbyterian; Rev. Samuel Stanhope Smith, 
the Princeton professor and theological writer ; 
Henry Boynton Smith, the American author 
of a number of theological works; William 
Robertson Smith, the Scottish orientalist, who 
wrote some good religious works; and Rev. 
Sidney S. Smith, the English minister of a 
century ago, who wrote many books and re* 
views, and was distinguished for his wit, 
humor and marvelous conversational powers. 
Macaulay referred to him ‘as the greatest mas- 
ter of ridicule that has appeared among us since 
Swift/ 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 93 


‘‘Then besides these poets and religious 
writers we have quite a number of other emi- 
nent writers bearing the name. Dr. Thomas S. 
Smith, founder of the ‘Westminster Review,’ 
wrote some most excellent medical and other 
works ; Sir Thomas Smith’s ‘The English Com- 
monwealth’ is a profound and valuable con- 
tribution to literature; Toulmin Smith’s legal 
and miscellaneous writings had a high standing 
in their day, one of the most notable works 
being ‘On the Discovery of America by the 
Northmen in the Tenth Century;’ William 
Smith, the translator of ‘Thucydides’ and other 
classics, made his mark in the English speaking 
world in the eighteenth century; Dr. William 
Smith, the celebrated English philologist and 
jurist, was a much esteemed and prolific writer, 
principally on educational topics; Sir James 
Edward Smith, botanist to Queen Charlotte, 
contributed some fine works on botany to the 
literary treasures of the world; John Thomas 
Smith, the English engraver of the early part 


94 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

of the nineteenth century, and Dr. Robert 
Smith, an Englishman of the seventeenth cen- 
tury, each wrote a number of books which met 
with much favor; Charlotte Smith, Lieutenant 
Colonel Harrison Smith, Charles Roach Smith, 
Elizabeth Smith and George Barnett Smith, all 
English, were erudite and entertaining writers. 
And then, Mr. Smith, there is that grand old 
man, the great political and economic writer, 
Goldwin Smith, born in England, and now 
passing the latter days of his long, useful and 
honorable life in his beautiful home in Toronto, 
Canada. His Trish History and Irish Char- 
acter,' and ‘Three English Statesmen' (Pym, 
Cromwell and Pitt), I consider most ably 
written; they are productions which will go 
down into history as the equal of any similar 
works the world has ever known." 

“I am proud that he is a Smith," said, 
friend Cyrus; “yes, I am overjoyed to feel 
that he is one of the family." 

“Well you should be," said I, “for he is a 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 95 

credit to the name. And now I want to add 
that while the Smiths have never had a Homer, 
a Dante, a Shakespeare, a Voltaire, a Goethe, 
they have been blessed with an exceptionally 
long list of poets and prose authors of a high 
order. Their contributions to the literary 
world have been noteworthy, beyond anything 
that any single family has given the world. It 
has always been a surprise to me that some 
member of the family who knew and appre- 
ciated what has been done, who realized the 
extent and value of their contributions to the 
literature of the world, has never made a col- 
lection of it. Such a collection would make 
an invaluable addition to any man's library. It 
would be something the worth of which was 
above estimation; and for a Smith — well, if 
I were a Smith, and owned it, no man's money 
could buy it from me." 

“A great idea ! It's a great idea of yours, 
Mr. Ranscomb ; capital !" interrupted Mr. Cyrus 
Smith, who by this time was fairly drunk over 


96 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

the fame of the Smith family. ‘‘Is there such 
a collection, Mr. Ranscomb, or could such a 
collection be made?'* 

“No there is no such collection; that, I 
say, is what has surprised me, that there has 
been no member of the family who had suffi- 
cient family pride, sufficient loyalty to 
the name to make the collection. But, 
of course, while it would be something 
inconceivably valuable, it would be costly, 
and I suppose that is what has deterred people 
in the past, and what is still deterring them, 
from undertaking it. Really, when I come to 
think of it, I don't blame them, for it would 
take a small fortune to carry the thing out 
properly; and if it were done at all it should 
be done right. If I were a Smith, and had 
plenty of money, I wouldn't hesitate about 
doing it ; but as you know, I am different from 
most people; I am very fond of books, and 
exceptionally loyal to my family; people say I 
am a bit foolish about such things.'' 


CONFESSIONS OF A UODBRN MIDAS 9? 


While saying this I was closely observing 
Mr. Smith. He was in a highly excited state 
of mind. During the latter part of the con- 
versation he had arisen from his chair and was 
walking back and forth in the room before 
me. As I finished my speech his hands went 
in and out of his pockets a dozen times in a 
nervous, jerky way. When I had finished he 
abruptly stopped directly in front of my chair, 
and said almost fiercely: 

‘‘Do you mean to say I haven't got the 
proper family spirit; that I lack family pride; 
that I am not educated enough to love books 
in general, or to long for a complete set of the 
writings of the Smith family; that I would let 
the trifling question of cost stand in the way 
of my possessing a grand collection like that ?" 

He was so wrought up over the matter, 
and so indignant at what he considered an in- 
sinuation against his loyalty to the family, that 
it took me some time to pacify him. Before I 
left his house I had promised to look up the 


98 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 


question of how all the writings of all the 
Smiths of all countries and all times could be 
gathered together, a uniform edition printed 
and bound, and what the cost thereof would be. 
This was to be submitted to him the next time 
I called. By making a search in the various 
booksellers’ catalogues, and book directories, 
in some cases through the use of the telegraph 
wires, and by using my personal knowledge 
of the cost of printing and binding, I was able 
to prepare a pretty complete list of the books 
which would go into the collection and the ex- 
pense of making a handsome edition of them. 
This I did in less than a week ; I worked hard 
and fast on it, for I didn’t want to let Mr. 
Smith’s ardor cool. I estimated that it would 
be necessary to have 125 volumes, each 
volume to cost me $200.00 and to cost Mr. 
Smith $400.00. 

When I went to see him again he simply 
greeted me with the one word : 


‘‘Well?” 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 99 


But there was such an intense eagerness in 
his voice as he uttered it that I realized I 
needn't have had any fear of his ardor cooling ; 
he was more excited than ever. I told him I 
had carefully gone over the matter; but that 
while I had found it could be done, and that 
when done it would make a perfectly superb 
collection, the expense of preparing, printing 
and binding a special edition of that kind would 
be enormous. 

“Who told you to consider the expense?" 
said Mr. Smith furiously. 

“No one!" I answered, %ut in this case 
the cost is so stupendous that I fear to tell it 
to you, although I know your love for your 
family, and particularly for the geniuses of 
your family, is so strong that ordinarily you 
wouldn’t let expense figure in your calculations. 
But the fact is that the expenditure of a. small 
fortune will be necessary." 

“Out with it! How much?" blurted Mr. 
Smith. 


. OF C. 


,100 CONFESSIONS -OF, A MODERN MIDAS 

“If you must have it, here it is : 
One hundred and twenty-five volumes, 
India paper, full crushed levant binding, 
hand-tooled and inlaid, silk finished, gilt tops, 
uncut edges, half-tone cuts, at $400 per volume, 
making $50,000 all told. Of course, when fin- 
ished, there would be nothing like it in this 
country or Europe; it would be superb and 
unique. But as I said before the cost is so great 
that it is prohibitory; I confess it staggered 
me when I first figured it up.” 

A look of dogged determination, mingled 
with that of joy and satisfaction, came over his 
face. 

“The price is not prohibitory; I’ll have it; 
have it made for me as soon as you can.” 

I left him with a written order for the work ; 
six months later the completed edition was de- 
livered, and his check received. My net profits 
were over $25,000. 


CHAPTER VI. 


Shortly after the foregoing occurrence an- 
other opportunity to do something worth while 
presented itself to me. It came accidentally; 
that is, I was not seeking it. I was working at 
the time in an Atlantic coast city, and among 
my customers was a wealthy banker, one of 
those self-made men who are usually such fine 
game for up-to-date book salesmen. This gen- 
tleman had been a poor boy, sold newspapers 
for a living, and later on went off to sea on a 
four-masted schooner as an ordinary sailor; 
he saved his meager earnings for a few years 
and thus got a chance to enter business for 
himself in a small way ; this he did by establish- 
ing a book and news store. He had a keen busi- 
ness mind, and so, of course, he prospered. 
Without going into the details of his career, 
suffice it to say that his fortune grew to such 


102 CONFTESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 

an extent that he finally succeeded in getting 
into the class I considered it worth while to do 
business with. He was at this time President 
John Robinson, of Seaman's Security Bank, 
instead of plain little Robinson, the 

newsboy, or “Stingy" Robinson, sailor, of a 
few years before. I was quite successful in 
placing a few handsome sets of books with him 
this time, as I had been on other occasions. 
It was not my custom to boast of what I did 
among the good fellows I lounged with about 
the hotel, but one evening I happened to refer 
to the case of this banker, and intimated that 
I had a pretty good hold on him. One of the 
gentlemen present took me aside shortly after- 
wards and asked me if I thought I could interest 
Mr. Robinson in a “Newsboys' Monthly" he 
was just starting, stating he would make it 
worth while if I could do anything. 

“I'm ready to try anything legitimate if 
there is anything in it for me," I answered, 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 103 


“and I have no doubt I could interest Mr. Rob- 
inson.’* 

The plan was then explained to me: The 
“Newsboys’ Monthly” had been established on 
small capital, and so far had had a rather pre- 
carious existence ; a company had been formed, 
the capital stock being $ii,ooo; of this the 
founder proposed vto take $6,000 as his share, 
for which he turned in the magazine, the other 
$5,000 he wished to have Mr. Robinson, as a 
friend of the newsboys, subscribe for at par. 
If I could succeed in getting him to do this, I 
would be given $500 in cash, and another $500 
in stock of the magazine. 

The proposition appealed to me and t 
undertook it at once. It only took three inter- 
views with Mr. Robinson to persuade him that 
he would be doing the cause of the newsboy 
incalculable good, and incidently extending his 
fame as a philanthropist, if he took this $5,000 
worth of stock. It was the easiest thing I had 
yet tried; Mr. Robinson was dead ripe for a 


104 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

plucking; he was sincerely interested in the 
welfare of the poor little newsies, and at the 
same time hungry for fame as a philanthropist. 
These two facts were as plain as daylight, and 
I confess the knowledge thereof aroused the 
devil of cupidity in me. I recognized there 
was an opportunity here which should not be 
lost; I must devise some scheme which would 
give Mr. Robinson the fame he craved, and me 
the gold. It did not take me long to think out 
a plan. Here is what it was: I proposed to 
Mr. Robinson that he should give the news- 
boys of the city a treat such as they had never 
had in this city or in any other. My idea was 
for him to send 5,000 of them on a day's trip 
to Cheswick Beach, a popular resort some 
twenty-five miles down the coast — the Atlantic 
City of the time. He could hire the big excur- 
sion steamers Buzzard, Falmouth and Natick, 
which would comfortably carry the party there 
and back. At Cheswick arrangements could 
easily be made for their entertainment in the 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 106 


bath houses, in the various shows and at the 
lunch houses. The boys would have the time 
of their lives and the entire city would be agog 
over the unprecedented excursion and the good- 
ness of the man who fathered it. If he liked the 
plan, I, as a friend of his, and also because of 
my love for the newsboys, would undertake to 
make the arrangements and manage the affair. 
Mr. Robinson fell in with the idea at once, and 
told me to get estimates of the cost ; if the ex- 
pense came within anything like reasonable 
bounds he would go ahead with the scheme. 
I told him I had already made inquiries and 
had found that the total cost would be some- 
where between $10,000 and $12,000; it would 
not run over the latter figure, nor would it be 
less than the former. 

‘Tf you are certain of your figures,'^ he 
said, 'T am willing to go on with it. Arrange 
it as soon as you can, and be sure you give the 
boys a good time. If we go into this we must 
make it all right; we musn't stint the boys in 


m CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 

anything. Now you are sure it can be carried 
out in a first-class way in all particulars for the 
amount named, are you 

'‘I’ll guarantee to do it, Mr. Robinson, for 
not more than $12,000,” I answered. "If it’s 
more than that I’ll pay the extra cost myself.” 

"Oh, no! you’ll pay nothing. I guess you 
know what you are talking about ; so go ahead, 
make all the arrangements, let me know the 
total of the bills, and I’ll give you a check for 
the amount.” 

I went ahead; my estimate of the expense 
was correct. If the scheme was carried out 
in first-class style and paid for at prevailing 
rates, the bills would amount to within a few 
dollars of $10,500. I didn’t propose to pay 
out all this money; but I wanted to be honest 
with Mr. Robinson ; and didn’t want to charge 
him one cent more than the actual cost; so I 
ascertained by inquiry what the exact amount 
would be. What I had in mind was to make 
an effort to get as many items as possible 


CONI^ESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 107 


donated; this to be for my benefit, not Mr. 
Robinson's. Mr. Robinson would be charged 
with the actual cost, and I would pocket the 
price of everything thus saved through my 
efforts. If I could by reason of my smooth 
talking succeed in reducing the expense I would 
be entitled to the amount saved, wouldn’t I? 
Wouldn’t it be justly earned? Mr. Robinson 
wouldn’t be out any more than if I hadn't 
tried to save this money; and there was no 
reason why I should exercise my talents in this 
way for his benefit. No! I felt I would fairly 
earn all I could save. I satisfied my con- 
science with this reasoning, and proceeded 
to see what I could do. I first saw the owners 
of the steamers and placed the matter before 
them. I outlined the scope of the scheme, pic- 
tured to them how it would be the sensation 
of the summer, how the newspapers would 
have column after column of reading matter, 
before, at the time and after the event; how 
the people of the city and the state would all 


108 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

be talking about it; how it would be one of 
the greatest advertisements they could possi- 
bly get if they had the honor of carrying the 
merry multitude of boys to Cheswick Beach 
instead of the trolley cars or steam roads, 
either of which latter would be only too glad 
to do the work free, and possibly be willing 
to pay a small bonus for the opportunity. My 
way of putting the case was successful; the 
boat owners agreed to carry the excursion free, 
and signed a paper to that effect. I next 
worked on the city trolley lines to get free 
transportation from the public square in front 
of the Seaman’s Security Bank building, where 
the boys were to -^jsemble, down to the wharf, 
making somewhat tsimilar arguments to them, 
and succeeded heie, too. I next took a trip 
to Cheswick Beach to see what could be done 
with the lunch houses, and the various shows. 
This was a somewhat harder proposition. 
They all realized what a great advertisement 
it. would be for Cheswick Beach, but each res- 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 109 


taurant keeper and concessionaire failed to get 
in into his head, or perhaps didn't want to get 
it into his head, that it would be of great 
benefit to him. Each seemed to feel that at 
best some cash would be more to the point. It 
took a whole week of my time and the exercise 
of all the eloquence at my command to per- 
suade these gentlemen that their real interest 
lay in doing the work free. I even had to go 
so far in some cases as to intimace that I had 
it in my power to carry the excursion, and with 
it the unparalleled advertisement, to some 
other resort, if I didn’t receive ^‘fair” treat- 
ment at Cheswick Beach. In the end I was 
successful with all, the only guarantee being 
that I was to see that each got a “fair show” 
in the newspaper accounts. This I could very 
well promise, for I knew that none of the 
papers would refuse to handle all the “copy” 
I could furnish them, about their special pets, 
the newsies; each newspaper would be only 


110 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

too anxious to receive all that was given to it, 
in relation to such a great event as this. 

The undertaking was carried through and 
was a tremendous success. I managed it from 
start to finish, and succeeded in keeping the 
expenses down to four or five hundred dollars ; 
there were naturally some few items that I 
couldn’t get out of paying. As I had predicted, 
it was the sensation of the summer; the boys 
had a grand time, the time of their lives; it was 
the one thing talked of in the city for weeks. 
The newspapers published columns upon col- 
umns of matter relating to it (I didn’t neglect 
to give them plenty of material, having hired 
three of the best press agents available) ; the 
praises of Mr. John Robinson, the benefactor, 
were in everybody’s mouth; in fact, I don’t 
believe it could possibly have been better 
handled in every respect — making the event 
itself a success, giving it the widest publicity, 
and demonstrating to Mr. Robinson that he 
was getting his money’s worth. There was no 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 111 


doubt about the latter point, for when I ap- 
peared at the bank I merely had to state that 
the cost was $10,757.00 (I thought it wise to 
have an odd figure) to receive a check to my 
order for the amount, accompanied by the most 
profuse thanks and — and another check for 
$1,000 for “the trouble I had been at” in man- 
aging the affair. I confess this extra check 
gave a slight twinge to my conscience, for I 
felt that I had already gotten enough out of 
Mr. Robinson, even though I had “earned it,” 
but I deemed it the part of wisdom to accept 
it and say nothing. 

This was the last event of any importance 
that occurred while I was in the book selling 
business, with the exception of a little bank- 
ing experience. It was the splendid outcome 
of this latter venture that opened my eyes to 
the vast possibilities of profit that lay in a 
judiciously conducted banking institution. 
Banks, by proper management, can be made to 


112 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

produce enormous profits for either the officers 
or the stockholders, or for both, if the officers 
consider it the better policy to make an honest 
division. 

On one of my visits to a building city in 
the southwest I had a talk with several more 
or less influential men of the place over the 
proposed organization of a bank. 1 was in- 
vited to become one of them; I said I did not 
have the ready money to purchase the stock, 
but was assured that little, if any money, would 
be needed. 

‘*We are going to capitalize it at $50,- 
000,” the spokesman said, '‘each of us, includ- 
ing you, subscribing for $9,000 worth. The 
other $5,000 will be parceled out in blocks of 
$1,000 to five of the principal merchants of 
the town. We five will be the directors and 
manage the business. The state law requires 
that 10 per cent, of the capital stock shall be 
paid in before starting business ; the five mer- 
chants, the $1,000 fellows, will pay for their 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS IIS 


stock in full, as they can easily afford to do, 
and they will be very willing to do this because 
the bank will be a great boon to them. The 
town needs it and these merchants need it. 
Now, we are going to do the work of organ- 
izing the bank free, so we should not be com- 
pelled to go into our own pockets and put up 
anything at the start. We want you in, be- 
cause you are a good fellow and because we 
know you are a shrewd business man ; being 
from a big eastern city, your name as one of 
the directors and stockholders will carry 
weight. The business is certain to boom from 
the day we open. What do you say, will you 
join us?” 

Naturally I joined them; why shouldn’t 
r? The business boomed. The man at the 
head of the enterprise, Harold. Hippie, was a 
genius. He was one of those energetic men 
that is found in all lines of business. Of 
small stature, rather unattractive in appear- 
ance, of a nervous disposition, he was a verita- 


114 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

ble example of perpetual motion. Even after 
a hard day’s work, when most men would sit 
down for a rest, Hippie would begin anew on 
something — the working out of a business 
problem, the investigation of some subject in 
his library, the formulation of new business 
projects. His wife always insisted that when 
they were kneeling at the marriage altar time 
hung so heavily on his hands that he utilized 
it by figuring out a financial problem that was 
occupying the attention of the bank officials 
at the time. He was never at rest. When a 
man of this kind directs all his energies toward 
making a business go, one can easily imagine 
the results. He made a success of the bank. 
It was almost no time until everybody in the 
town not only knew that our bank had been 
started, but that it was the one and only safe 
place where money could be kept. Deposits 
flowed in in floods; everybody in the whole 
countryside with any money became a depos- 
itor. 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 116 


This was but the beginning of Hippie’s 
work; having gotten the cash into the bank 
the next step was to get it at work for the bene- 
fit of the stockholders. He succeeded in 
doing this most effectually. While a certain 
proportion of the funds was put on ordinary 
business paper at comparatively moderate 
rates, a large amount was loaned on what we 
people down east might consider ‘Visky” col- 
lateral. But the collateral in most cases was 
really good; it was of a character that banks 
do not loan on to any great extent in the east, 
but which has real intrinsic value; and the 
loans were usually made on a highly conserva- 
tive estimate of the value of the commodity. 
On account of the apparent risk high rates of 
interest were charged and willingly paid. A 
wonderfully profitable class of paper of this 
character was short time cattle loans, on 
which cattle raisers, or cattle dealers who 
mortgaged their stock not only paid big inter- 
est but a bonus in addition. Loans on grow- 


116 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

ing crops were also very remunerative, while 
chattel mortgages on farming implements, 
household goods, etc., were so good that I 
think even one of our city pawnbrokers would 
look on them with envy. Then our bank spec- 
ulated indirectly in real estate to the great 
benefit of its profit and loss account. This 
was done by loaning very close up on the 
mortgages of speculators ; in return for the risk 
taken, the speculators agreed to pay a high 
interest rate, and also to pay the bank a certain 
percentage of the profits of the venture. In 
less than a year the money earned paid up our 
stock in the bank, and in two years we were 
paying handsome dividends, besides accumu- 
lating a substantial surplus. I sold my stock 
in Hippie’s bank when I became interested in 
the new banking company which I established 
here in the city; and to a certain extent lost 
track of the work that gentleman and his com- 
panions did in the southwest. I learned 
enough, however, to know that they established 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 117 


a string of fifteen or twenty similar institu- 
tions, running them on similar lines, each be- 
ing successful. 


CHAPTER VII. 


It was with some regret that I quit my 
work as a seller of books. Traveling about 
from one city to another was quite agreeable, 
and the exercise of my talents, necessary to 
make a success of my work, was a mental re- 
freshment, the loss of which I would feel. 
But by this time you, Henry, were getting to 
be a big boy, and your mother insisted that it 
was time I should get settled down in some 
business which would enable me to be at home ; 
she was tired of my being away from her 
three-quarters of the year or more, and besides 
she thought our only boy needed the guidance 
and care of a father, which he could not have 
as long as I was ‘‘on the road.” A boy needs 
his mother, she said, but he also needs his 
father, possibly needs the latter more than the 
former when he gets into his “teens.” At that 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 119 


age he observes and imitates the deeds of men, 
not those of women, and the thoughts and 
ideas of a father carry far more weight with 
him than those of a mother. 

So it was that I decided to quit ‘‘the road’' 
and go into some settled business. As I stated 
before, my experience with the Southwestern 
bank made me decide to enter that field of 
human effort ; it offered more attractions from 
a money-making standpoint than anything 
else, and that was what I wanted. Besides it 
gave a man a standing in the community. Up 
to this time I had thought very little about 
this — a rolling stone like I had been 
couldn’t expect to have or care for any stand- 
ing — but your mother drummed it into me 
that, as her husband, and as the father of a son 
rapidly nearing manhood, it was my duty to 
assume a place in the community befitting our 
circumstances. So I gave up book canvassing 
and became a banker. I had saved up a nice 
little sum of money What I made on the 


120 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

Smith and Robinson transactions had been 
carefully invested, as v^ell as a good proportion 
of my regular commissions. Then my interest 
in the Hippie bank was sold for about seven 
times par. This gave me quite a nice pile of 
cash with which to start the bank. 

I wanted to own the bank myself ; my plan 
was to have it nothing more nor less than 
Ralph Ranscomb working under another 
name; I wanted to be able to say, paraphras- 
ing Louis XIV.: “The bank? I am the 
bank.'' I wanted it this way for business rea- 
sons; I wanted all the profits, and all per- 
quisites to come to me. Our bank in the south- 
west had been run by Hippie for the benefit 
of the stockholders, unquestionably so. Stock- 
holders who have their stock made worth seven 
times par have no reason to complain; least 
of all one like myself, who had his stock 
handed over free. To be sure, I had but the 
prestige of my name, whatever that amounted 
to, as a prominent citizen of a large eastern 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 121 


city. The fact that I was a 'Vlistinguished 
easterner” was blazoned forth on all circulars 
and in all advertising matter of the bank. But 
as far as I was concerned I did not put in a 
dollar and took out over $60,000. No, I have 
cause to feel exceedingly grateful to Hippie 
and his companions. Yet Hippie made some- 
thing in addition — in numberless cases as the 
guiding spirit in the institution presents of more 
or less value were given him, bonuses were of 
frequent occurrence, while the opportunities 
offered him of getting into “good things” on 
the ground floor were not to be despised. It 
was for these reasons I decided I would be the 
“whole thing” in my bank; everything must 
come to me. 

I organized as “The Provident Consoli- 
dated Trust Co.” That sounded well, even if 
it didn’t mean anything. The name would 
command respect and confidence, and that was 
what I needed at the start. I fully appreciated 
that my bank must appear before the world 


122 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

as being founded on broad principles. It 
wouldn’t do to have it known that it was 
merely Ralph Ranscomb in corporate shape. 
The solid business men of the city must appear 
to be interested. For this reason I made a 
most careful selection of directors who were 
to pose for my benefit. They were to do for 
me what I had done for Hippie. To carry out 
this part of my plan leading business interests 
must be represented on the board. A well- 
known dry goods merchant, a wholesale jew- 
eler, an importer, a leading railroad man, an 
officer of a large marine shipping firm, the 
president of the Board of Trade, and the 
director of the wholesale grocers’ exchange 
were the men selected. The offer of a small 
amount of full paid stock free and the promise 
of accommodation, accompanied by a little 
judicious flattery, gave me their names and in- 
fluence. Armed with that I could do the rest. 
It was tacitly understood that they were to 
keep hands off ; I would attend to the running 


CONFS33IONJI OP A MODERN MIDAS 1*8 


of the business. It would be run well — for the 
“interest of the stockholders/^ for no one was 
more interested in “the stockholders” than 1. 
There was to be no private snaps by officials; 
all bonuses, of whatsoever kind, all under- 
writing profits, all commissions, must go to the 
bank, i. e., Ralph Ranscomb. I wanted to 
make my bank a big institution, a safe insti- 
tution, a profitable institution, and my stock 
holdings were so nearly the whole thing that 
there was no temptation to divert any profits 
to me as an individual. 

And so I got started. The usual methods 
were adopted, although pushed much more en- 
ergetically than in the average case. Circulars 
were issued describing what the institution 
was, who the distinguished men back of it (I 
made use of my directors^ names and their 
business standing quite freely)’, and the safe 
lines on which it was proposed to run it. In 
preparing the “literature” for this part of my 
campaign I employed one of the best financial 


124 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

writers on the daily newspapers, a man who 
hadn’t his equal in getting off catchy phrases 
and ponderous nothings. Such words as 
“absolute security,” “safe and sound” policy, 
“substantial assets,” “gigantic surplus,” “wise 
investments,” “courteous treatment,” etc., 
were liberally scattered through the circulars. 
Added to work of this kind was vigorous per- 
sonal work; and it told in the deposits, which 
soon rose to substantial dimensions. Busi- 
ness came to the bank without much seeking; 
the first that was offered had, naturally, to be 
winnowed very carefully. All the sharks in 
the community rush to a new bank the moment 
it opens ; they are utterly without credit in the 
older institutions and they think the new bank- 
ers will be so eager to get business that they 
will not scrutinize their paper closely. I was 
prepared for the arrival of this class of gen- 
tlemen; I knew they would come and was de- 
termined they should get no foothold in my 
bank. T could afford to wait; I wasn’t there 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODEltN MIOAS 12$ 


to be made a dupe of by good-for-nothings. 
They came and were diplomatically side- 
tracked. They were followed by a goodly 
number of desirable customers, and I was 
pleased to find that this class increased week 
by week. 

I believe most banks are well conducted. 
While we all make a big fuss about keeping a 
healthy reserve or about having a fine surplus, 
I don't think the people outside of the profes- 
sion know what it all means ; nor do they care. 
They are persuaded that the majority of 
banks are properly managed, and they are 
right. As a rule, banks are operated by those 
most heavily interested in their welfare, and 
for that reason you can “bank" on it that they 
will be safely and profitably run. My bank 
was no exception. Since my all was in The 
Provident Consolidated Bank, I wasn't going 
to take chances on its not having sufficient re- 
serve, that is — I was going to see that it was 
in safe condition at all times ; I was determined 


126 CONFESSIONS OF A MODKKN MIDAS 

no swindler should get his fingers into its 
funds, and intended to see that it earned good 
dividends. 

During the first two or three years of its 
existence The Provident Consolidated forged 
steadily ahead; its deposits grew, the amount 
of its loans increased as rapidly as was con- 
sistent with safe banking, and its trust business 
began to assume healthy proportions. Its 
president also grew in knowledge; he learned 
to steer clear of bad business and to recognize 
the good when he saw it. While the bonuses, 
the letting in on good things, the snaps, were 
not great during this period, they were enough 
to help pile up a surplus and to increase the 
dividends. I think it was at the end of the 
third year that I established a National Bank, 
to be located next door to the Trust company, 
managed by the same people (i. e., Ralph 
Ranscomb), and run in harmony with the 
older institution. I found there was some 
things in the banking line that the Trust com- 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 127 


pany couldn’t do, or at least couldn’t do as 
well as the National bank, and I wanted to be 
so fixed that I could cover the entire field. Be- 
sides there were occasions, for instance, if the 
examiner was in town, when it would be 
mighty convenient to have a National bank 
next door to help us out in making a fine show- 
ing. I ran the Trust company safely; I knew 
it was in a safe condition at all times, and yet 
I could not always make the examiner see it 
with my eyes. The National bank next door 
solved the problem; I could always be ready 
for the visits of the examiner. While in a way 
this was tricky, I acknowledge it, still I felt 
it was justifiable, for I knew things were in 
good condition, even if the requirements of 
the state were not being lived up to. And who 
was more deeply interested than I in knowing 
that all was safe? 

I called the new institution "‘The Rans- 
comb National Bank,” as I now began to seek 
fame ; I wanted to perpetuate my name. I con- 


128 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

ducted this bank on the strictest business prin- 
ciples, pushed it to the front with all the 
energy I possessed, and it became a success. 
Any concern that has brains and application 
behind it will be successful. It is only crook- 
edness or incompetency that brings defeat and 
failure. 

The ventures which my banks figured in 
were of such varied nature and so numerous 
that I won’t attempt to enumerate them. I 
will go into detail on but three or four, which 
will give some idea of their general character. 
The profits in some cases were scarcely worth 
considering, while in others they were almost 
beyond belief. 

One day in the earlier years of my bank- 
ing experience a promoter named Jonathan 
Price sought an interview with me. He ex- 
plained a project he had under foot out in the 
west. He and a few friends had come to the 
conclusion that a railroad between the towns 
of Absolom and Onegosh was a burning neces- 


qONFBSSTONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 129 


sity; the distance was one hundred and seven 
miles, and the country through which the pro- 
posed road was to go was rich in good farms, 
while along the route were several good-sized 
towns. The buildings of the road would open 
up a fine piece of freight-producing territory. 
Mr. Price waxed eloquent over the prospects, 
and in almost every other sentence asked if I 
didn^t agree with him. He at length reached 
the point, which was that he desired my Trust 
company to take his bonds at the exceptionally 
low price of ninety ; such gilt-edged securities 
really ought not to be sacrificed at a figure like 
that, but they were in a hurry to get the road 
in operation and thought it the part of wisdom 
to let the bonds go at a little below what they 
were intrinsically worth rather than suffer 
delay. They would lose more ip the end by 
delay in the completion of the road than the 
loss on the bonds would amount to. The bonds 
were five per cent., free of tax, and Mr. Price 
had no doubt whatever that in a year from date; 


130 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIOAS 

with the road in operation, they would be 
worth no and possibly 115. He thought they 
ought to be a very attractive investment, as 
they would be absolutely safe and highly 
profitable. 

I was not carried off my feet by Mr. Price’s 
brilliant word picture of the company’s pros- 
pects ; even with my limited banking experience 
I had learned that it is always safe to take 
things calmly. Moreover, I had done a little 
word painting myself when I was ‘‘on the 
road” and I knew what value to put on it. In- 
stead of growing wildly enthusiastic I coldly 
answered : 

“Does any stock go with the bonds ? I sup- 
pose we are a little spoiled, but usually in cases 
of this kind some stock is given us.” 

Mr. Price said he wasn’t authorized to 
give any stock, to which I answered that I 
feared we would be unable to do business with 
each other. He then discovered that he might 
be able to do something in the stock line after 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 1^1 


he had an opportunity to consult with his asso- 
ciates. 

We had a number of conferences, I, in the 
meantime, making some quiet inquiries in the 
west. Through these talks, armed as I was 
by my discoveries at Onegosh and Absolom. 
it came out that the scheme was something 
like this: 

Mr. Price and his associates had put in 
some twenty thousand dollars, through the ex- 
penditure of which they had gotten their char- 
ter, made surveys, secured rights of way, paid 
for the printing of the stock books and bonds, 
traveling expenses, and built one mile of road. 
They now wanted to bond the road to build 
the other io6 miles and the terminals; the 
^^stockholders” had met and had authorized 
an issue, amounting to about $30,000 a mile. 

Since I had discovered in my investigation 
that the outside cost of the road over the level 
country it traversed, bridges and cuts and fills 
being few, would be $16,000, while it might 


132 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 

not go beyond $12,000 or $14,000, the margin 
of profit in selling the bonds ($30,000 per 
mile) at ninety would be not inconsiderable. 

At the next conference I told Mr. Price I 
had carefully gone over the proposition, con- 
sidered it from every standpoint, made esti- 
mates of the cost of building, and the probable 
revenues after it was built; that while it was 
a reasonable prospect there were many features 
of a risky nature about it; I had therefore 
decided that I would take the bonds at fifty and 
not demand any stock. Mr. Price held up 
his hands. 

'‘Why, Mr. Ranscomb, you don’t mean 
that? You’re surely joking? That would be 
robbery pure and simple,” he said. 

"Not at all,” I replied, "that is all they are 
worth and you know it.” 

"You must be crazy, Mr. Ranscomb,” re- 
torted Mr. Price; "good five per cent railroad 
bonds; bonds on a railroad running through 
such a rich farming country as that between 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 133 


Absolom and Onegosh, the fattest land in the 
state, a railroad which will be a veritable mine 
of wealth, and its bonds only worth fifty cents 
on the dollar ? Heaven preserve me ! My peo- 
ple will not listen for a moment to such a 
monstrous proposition/' 

‘‘Now, look here, Mr. Price! I wasn’t 
born yesterday, nor were you. I think we’ll 
understand each other after a little. I have 
taken the trouble to look into the facts about 
this road. It’s a good proposition, and I’m 
willing to take hold of it ; but I am not willing 
to let you and your associates walk off with 
enough money to build the road, and a similar 
amount in cash, in addition to getting the en- 
tire issue of stock free. That is what would 
occur if I gave you ninety for your bonds. No ! 
no! my friend, I wasn’t born yesterday.” 

I then went into details on the results of 
my investigations on railroad building in the 
Onegosh country; and after much protesting 
on his part, we finally arrived at an under- 


134 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

standing. It was a compromise. I was to pay 
sixty cents on the dollar for the bonds ; he and 
his friends were to get the contract for building 
the road, for which they were to be given this 
money and the entire stock of the road. There 
is no doubt but that after paying for the con- 
struction and the small amount of equipment 
they started with, they had their stock free and 
some cash besides. As for me I held the bonds, 
and a year later, the road being completed and 
in operation, I had no trouble selling them to 
farmers along the route for nearly par. 

This transaction was beneficial all around ; 
Price and his friends had a good thing in it, 
The Provident Consolidated Trust Co. profited 
handsomely, and as the new road became a 
substantial money-maker almost from the 
start, the farmers who bought the bonds at 
par were also fortunate in their investment. 
The last news I had was that the bonds were 
selling at 115. 

In the course of my banking career The 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 136 


Provident Consolidated Trust Co. underwrote 
the bonds of a number of enterprises of this 
kind. I considered them a safe and remunera- 
tive form of investment of the bank’s funds. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


The case of Edwin Matthews, the coal 
man, was typical of a number of operations 
the Trust company figured in, in which appar- 
ently cruel and hard-hearted action had to be 
taken in order to save the money of the bank. 
Mr. Matthews was the owner of a coal mine 
in West Virginia, which he had operated for 
some time with profit. Like most successful 
business men, he wanted to increase the facili- 
ties of the mine, new openings, more cars, 
more mules, more miners^ houses, etc., so as 
to be able to do a greater business; this re- 
quired money. He bonded his property, and 
came to me for the funds he needed. I fixed 
the matter up for him by loaning him the 
amount he asked for. It was arranged thus: 
He gave his note for the money borrowed, the 
bonds being pledged as collateral security. 


OONPESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 1S7 


Matthews proceeded along smoothly for a 
spell, and his paper was renewed several times. 
At length a strike took place in his works ; the 
rights or wrongs of the case I know nothing 
of; my business was simply to safeguard the 
interests of The Provident Consolidated Trust 
Co. and its allied concern — the Ranscomb 
National bank. Mr. Matthews was getting 
into trouble financially, and I feared he might 
be hard pressed for money with which to pay 
the interest on his notes. The security for the 
principal was good, for the intrinsic value of 
the coal v/as worth considerably more than 
the debt he owed the bank ; besides, he owned 
a fine bit. of property outside of his coal land 
holdings, wdiich would be liable to seizure, to 
make up any deficiency. I knew all this, but 
you know how timid banking institutions are; 
they don't want to take chances of having 
trouble; or. of getting a penny less than is 
owing to them. It may be cruel, and at times 
it i may work a little hardship, an apparently 


138 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

unjust hardship on the unfortunate borrower 
to swoop down on him in times of trouble, 
but when he borrows he takes chances on just 
such action ; he goes into it with his eyes open, 
he has no right to complain when severe meas- 
ures are taken to protect the bank’s stockholders 
and depositors. T felt it my duty to proceed 
against Mr. Matthews, and notified him that I 
would expect him to pay off his notes, other- 
wise I would sell the collateral. 

This brought him post haste from his mines 
in West Virginia to the city. He appeared at 
the bank as soon as it opened in the morning, 
and asked an audience with me, which was 
granted. He explained that he was in the 
midst of trouble with his miners, but that he 
was certain to win out, more than likely within 
a very short time ; when victory came he would 
be in much better shape than ever to make his 
mines profitable. He tried to show me that the 
security, including his outside interests, was 
more than twice the amount of the indebted- 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 139 


ness; and that to press him at a time like this 
would be most cruel, for it would be difficult 
to go elsewhere and get a loan; another insti- 
tution would not wish to begin extending credit 
at a time when a concern was in the midst of a 
bitter fight. 

I told him that I sympathized with him in 
his troubles, but my duty to the bank’s stock- 
holders and depositors was paramount to any 
considerations of mercy or pity, therefore I 
would have to insist on an immediate liquida- 
tion of the debt. 

Mr. Matthews plead with me, asked for a 
month’s delay, reiterated the statements re- 
garding his solvency, and when I refused to 
recede from my position, first begged piteously 
for mercy, saying that if I proceeded to carry 
out my plans I would ruin him and his family, 
and, seeing me still firm, became abusive. I 
at last had to call a porter, a six-foot, broad- 
shouldered, military-looking fellow, whom I 
had in the employ of the bank for just such 


140 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

occasions as this, and tell him to show Mr. 
Matthews out. 

The coal bonds, the collateral, were offered 
for sale; and as there were no offers for them, 
I had one of my men bid them in at $i.oo per 
bond; then as owner of the bonds the Trust 
Co. seized the coal property. As the money 
realized from the sale of the bonds was utterly 
insufficient to pay the Matthews notes, or even 
to make any appreciable impression toward 
their payment, it was my duty as president of 
the bank to levy on all of Mr. Matthews* out- 
side property to try to make ourselves whole. 
The sale of this property about paid off the in- 
debtedness, and what was made from the sale 
of the coal property a little later on was pure 
gain. The Trust company came out decidedly 
ahead ; although I must confess it took courage 
to withstand the appeals of Mr. Matthews — 
I had to keep constantly before me the “duty” 
I owed to the stockholders and depositors of the 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 141 


bank, to make me stand firmly in the position 
I had taken. 

♦ ♦♦♦♦♦♦ 

An incident in the course of the bank's 
business which attracted a vast amount of at- 
tention in the financial world at the time was 
that of the United Cotton Manufacturing Co, 
I considered my work in this transaction as 
one of the shrewdest bits of financiering I had 
yet accomplished. This concern was made up 
by the consolidation of a half dozen immense 
cotton mills, located at several points in the 
east. Its capitalization ran into the millions, 
as the company not only owned many large 
mills, but in almost every instance held in fee 
simple half the town in which the plant was 
situated. In the boom which followed the con- 
solidation the company made great improve- 
ments and extensions, and as a result became a 
heavy borrower. Some of its largest loans 
were made with my institutions; I had had a 
searching investigation made of the assets of 


142 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

the company, with particular reference to the 
realty holdings, and was satisfied with its 
soundness. I encouraged its borrowing ; I 
wanted all the paper of that kind I could get ; 
the deeper it got into my debt the better, so 
long as a certain limit, which was well within 
the line of safety, was not passed. I would 
take good care to see that that line was not 
over-stepped; under no circumstances would 
the bank’s interests be jeopardized. The loans 
were carried along for some time, and even 
increased, until I at length decided that a ter- 
mination of the business should be made. The 
time was ripe for a settlement which would be 
advantageous to my banks. I carefully 
thought over the matter and formulated a line 
of procedure, which, if carried out according 
to my plans, would net my companies record- 
breaking profits, and also bring me fame 
among the bankers of the city and the nation 
for financial sagacity. I sent word to Mr. 
Henry Webster, the president of the concern. 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 143 


to please call on me, which he promptly did. 
When the usual complimentary commonplaces 
were out of the way, I came right to the point. 

‘‘Mr. Webster,** I said, “I suppose you 
know that the loans to your company in The 
Provident Consolidated Trust Co., the Rans- 
comb National bank and other banks total up 
to stupendous figures? While yours is a big 
concern, there is a limit to the credit which 
should be extended even to it. My object in 
having you call to-day is to see what can be 
done. It seems to me it is time some of the 
loans should be paid off.** 

“I am surprised, Mr. Ranscomb,** he an- 
swered, “at such a suggestion. You know the 
United Cotton Manufacturing Co. is perfectly 
solvent; that our assets are double or treble, I 
might truthfully say quadruple the amount 
of our indebtedness ; we are doing a phenome- 
nal business and our net earnings are all that 
could be desired. We couldn*t be in a better 
condition.** 


144 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

can’t look at it that way,” I answered; 
‘‘money is tight just now, and banks can’t be 
too careful about extending credit too far. I 
hope it will not inconvenience you, but I shall 
be compelled to ask you to do something.” 

‘‘Do you really mean it ?” said he. 

“I undoubtedly do.” 

“That’s awfully unjust; you know we are 
sound; and yet you ask us to come and settle 
at a time when the money market is tight; 
when it will be almost impossible to go else- 
where and make initial borrowings. Banks are 
not making new loans just now. It seems to 
me, Mr. Ranscomb, you ought to consider this 
phase of the case. To my mind it is inexcus- 
ably unjust, and I am sure if you will think it 
over again you will agree with me.” 

“Not at all; I know my business. I must 
be just first to my stockholders and my depos- 
itors, even if it does happen to press a little 
hard on you. I insist that you make arrange^ 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODBHN MIDAS 145 


mcnts to pay off your loans, or at least largely 
reduce them.’' 

‘‘I’ll see what I can do,” he said, sullenly, 
half defiantly, and left my office. 

Two days later he returned, crestfallen 
and hopeless looking, and said he had made 
strenuous efforts to borrow elsewhere, but 
without success. He had communicated with 
all the leading financial institutions; at each 
place he received the same answer — they 
were not extending credit to new customers. 
He asked me what was to be done about it; 
he was helpless to do anything. 

“Bonds,” I said. “What is to prevent 
your company from issuing bonds, giving a 
mortgage on all your property to secure them ? 
Issue enough to take up all floating indebted- 
ness and to give you some working capital 
besides. That would put you on “Easy” street ; 
the bonds could be sold, in spite of the fact 
that money is tight. I feel certain I could have 
them underwritten.” 


146 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 


“At what figure could they be under- 
written?^' 

“At seventy or seventy -five.” 

“That would be confiscation; my people 
would never stand it, nor would I permit them 
to. Why, our mills and real estate at only 
two places — say Batick and Shawpucket — are 
worth the full amount of our indebtedness; 
and then consider all the other mills and towns 
we own.” 

“I wouldn't want to undertake to get a 
much better price for the bonds. You seem 
to forget that money doesn't go begging at 
the present time. You had better make up 
your mind to accept the inevitable.” 

“Never,” he said. “I'll never accept such 
a figure as that; I'll let the concern go hang 
first. Can I have a little time to again see what 
can be done elsewhere?” 

“Certainly ; nothing would please me better 
than to have you get a better price for the 


ilONFBSSlONS OF A MOOfcJKN &tHMS 147 


bonds elsewhere ; or to see your way clear to 
fix this matter up in some other way/' 

Off he went, notably depressed, but with a 
look which indicated the determination not to 
yield to the hard terms proposed by me. An- 
other two days passed before he turned up. 
This time he was the picture of dejection; he 
had evidently been working with the energy 
of desperation all to no purpose. lie threw 
himself into a chair, remained silent a moment 
or two, and then said : 

‘T can't make it! I can’t make it. I can 
get no offer on the bonds at all. Just think of 
it — the mortgage to secure the bonds w ill rep- 
resent less than fifty per cent, of the value of 
the property, and yet the best bid I can get on 
the bonds is yours. It's monstrous ; it would be 
a gross breach of trust to the stockholders to 
throw away the company’s assets in that w^ay. 
I can’t and I won’t do it. You’ll have to help 
me out in some other way. Either give me a 
reasontble price for the bonds or carry the 


148 CONFESSIONS OF A MODEJaN MIDAS 

company’s paper until I can make some better 
arrangements.” 

I answered: “My terms seem hard, I 
know, but I will have to insist on your fixing 
the matter up at once. Fm very sorry for you, 
but I have to look after the bank’s interests. 
I don’t ask you to sell bonds at what you say 
is such a ruinous rate; I merely suggested that 
method of getting tlie money if you were un- 
able to get it otherwise. All I ask is that you 
get the money.” 

“Well, I can’t get it, so you’ll have to carry 
our notes along for a while,” said Mr. Web- 
ster. 

“It’s either the money or your company 
goes into the hands of a receiver,” I replied. 

“What!” said Webster, “you don’t mean 
to say you’ll throw a perfectly solvent concern, 
one that you know as well as you are sitting 
there is solvent, into a receivership ; that would 
be devilish.” 

“Be it what it may, that is what will occur 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 149 


if the notes, which are due The Provident Con- 
solidated Trust Co. and the Ranscomb 
National bank are not paid. As it now stands 
the question for you to decide is, whether it 
shall be bonds or a receivership. When you arc 
ready to answer that question you can come to 
me again; the answer will have to be given 
very soon, however, or I will take action to 
protect the interests intrusted to my care with- 
out waiting for it.*’ 

Mr. Webster seemed stunned ; he sank back 
in his chair and lay there in a stiff, motionless 
position. After a time he got up and left the 
bank without saying a word. There was a 
jiieeting of the board of the Cotton company 
that afternoon which extended far into the 
night. The next day Mr. Webster came to see 
me again, saying his company would issue the 
bonds. He made anotlier fight with me on the 
rate — seventy; he insisting on eighty-five, and 
the conference ended by our making a compro- 
mise on eighty. 


160 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

The profits of this transaction were enor- 
mous. The bonds were a gilt-edged security, 
and in less than a year, when general money 
conditions became more settled, they were dis- 
posed of at par. I know it is customary in 
cases of this kind, where an institution gets 
bonds at the “sub-cellar'' rate (in this instance 
eighty), others are let in on the “cellar" rate 
eighty-five or ninety, while less powerful in- 
terests, brokers, small banks, etc., come in on 
the “ground floor" at ninety-five, the public 
eventually getting them at lOO. But I knew the 
intrinsic value of the Cotton company bonds 
was such that I could get loo or possibly more, 
so I was unwilling to share the profits with 
others. I felt that I had worked the matter 
up myself and deserved all there was to be got- 
ten out of it. Suffice it to say that the profits to 
The Provident Consolidated Trust Co. and the 
Ranscomb National bank ran into the millions, 
for the deal was a big one. 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 151 


One day some six or eight months after 
the close of the preceding transaction I had a 
visit from a certain Mr. Fink, with whom I 
had been acquainted for several years. He was 
what is known as a professional promoter. He 
had the knack of getting hold of all manner 
of big financial schemes promising profit, par- 
ticularly profit to Mr. Fink; the more daring 
the enterprise the more Mr. Fink liked it. 
When talking with close business acquaintances 
he had a habit of using financially slangy lan- 
guage, although when talking to strangers 
his utterances were couched in more dignified 
terras. I came in the former class. 

“Hello, Ranscomb!’' he said, “do you 
want to make a pile of money? Dead sure 
thing; it’ll require quite a bunch of money to 
swing it; but there’s positively no risk. Are 
you game?” 

“Explain yourself,” I said. 

' • “It’s this way,” he went on rapidly, “a lot 
of politicians, who are in control of the gov- 


152 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

ernment of Columbus-land (Columbus-land 
is not the real name but it will do to represent 
the strong government on this Western Hem- 
isphere referred to) have hatched a big 
scheme, which is as juicy as they make them. 
They have chartered a railroad with a lot of 
dummy directors called the Columbus Western ; 
this road runs from the city of Americus, where 
it connects with the Columbus inter-ocean line, 
up through the rich farming and mining coun- 
try that lies to the west of that place. It will 
open up a fine new bit of territory, and will in 
the end become a profitable enterprise: they 
(the politicians) claim that it will not be long 
before it is one of the most important feeders 
the Columbus inter-ocean line has, and that 
the latter road will finally have to buy it at any 
figure the builders ask. However, while the 
outlook is very rosy, Fm not asking you to buy 
'prospects what 1 have to offer is, as I said 
before, a sure thing. The Columbus-land 
statesmen— there are six of them in the game 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 168 


— not only made their government charter the 
Columbus Western railroad, but had a subsidy 
of $20,000,000 voted to it. They worked the 
subsidy racket by giving the representatives 
of the people a lot of ‘guff’ about ‘opening up 
virgin land’ which, as soon as the railroad was 
built, would attract the finest specimens of man- 
hood from the ends of the earth, sturdy farm- 
ers and miners who would build up ‘one of the 
most prosperous commonwealths’ within the 
boundless domains of Columbus-land ; the land 
would without doubt ‘blossom like the rose,’ 
while the mines would be a possession that all 
Columbus-land would be proud of ; the trifling 
subsidy would be returned to Columbus-land 
ten-fold within a few years in the shape of 
taxes. That ‘went down’ beautifully with the 
people and their representatives, and the sub- 
sidy passed with few dissenting votes. 

“I suppose you wonder where you and I 
come in on this ! The game is this : The six 
jioliticians have given me the opportunity to 


154 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

sell the charter, including the subsidy. For 
this they want $25,000 apiece or $150,000 
down; then when the sale is effected they are 
to get a million apiece, or six millions in all. 
Beyond that they don’t care what is done, so 
long as the road is built. My part of the 
plan in here : T know I can sell the char- 

ter and subsidy to a bunch of western railroad 
magnates, who love a flyer of that kind, by 
giving them half the subsidy, that is $10,000,- 
000. It’s like rolling a log to do this, for I 
can prove to them that they can build the road 
for less than ten millions, and that therefore 
they would get the stock absolutely free. Do 
you imagine that those western railway kings 
would hesitate to accept a railroad free, one 
that promises so well as this? Not much; 
they would snap it up in a jiffy; and we would 
be in four millions for handling the trans- 
action. 

“Now, what I want you to do is to furnish 
the $150,000 the politicians require to be paid 


CONFESStONa OF A MODERN MIDAS 166 


in advance ; 1 know money is money, that it is 
cash that talks, and so am willing to let you 
have the big end of the thing. To the point : 
If you put up the $150,000, you can have $2,- 
500,000 of our $4,000,000 profits, while Fll 
take the other $1,500,000 for getting the buy- 
ers. Is it a bargain ?” 

I deliberated over the proposition for a 
short time, and answered : 

“All right, ril do it. Bring me a certified 
copy of the charter and of the act granting the 
road a subsidy; also your contract with the 
politicians giving you the privilege of selling 
the road on the terms stated; Fll be ready for 
you.” 

Shortly thereafter he came back to me 
with the required documents. I advanced the 
$150,000 and Fink went to work. It took him 
about two months to complete the deal with 
the western railroad kings, for, as they did 
not know him, they naturally looked with sus- 
picion on such an easy thing. But of course 


1S6 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 

Fink had everything in ship-shape condition, 
else he would not have undertaken to put the 
deal through, nor, would I have gone into it; 
so the investigations of the westerners proved 
that what he claimed was true in every par- 
ticular, and they bought the road, paying us 
ten millions for it. We paid the six politicians 
their million apiece, and divided the four 
millions between us, according to agreement. 
The westerners who bought the road, of course 
reimbursed themselves for the ten millions they 
advanced, out of the subsidy, which they re- 
ceived after the road was completed. I’m not 
certain of the fact, but I afterwards heard 
that the construction of the road cost only $ 8 .- 
000,000; in that case they were in two million 
in ca.sh in addition to the stock. 


CHAPTER IX. 


The years passed by. My banking busi- 
ness grew larger and larger. The Provident 
Consolidated Trust Co. and the Ranscomb Na- 
tional bank were recognized as two • leading 
institutions of the city. As t^: owner and 
manager of two such successful and substan- 
tial banks, I occupied a high position in the 
community. My favor was sought for in all 
business undertakings of any importance, 
while church, charitable and social societies 
ever and anon asked my aid ; I entered heartily 
and energetically into everything and thus 
made myself an indispensable part of the life 
of the city. My home life was all that could 
be desired. My house was large, commodious, 
comfortable; the domestic arrangements were 
perfect, and so ran with the smoothness of a 
machine. I had some years previously made 


158 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 


it a rule of life not to permit business matters, 
except in certain cases where I wished your 
mother's aid, to intrude upon my evenings, as 
I wanted them quiet and undisturbed. I was 
determined that my home life should be one of 
relaxation and leisure. The enforcement of 
the rule was a godsend to me, as it would be 
to eveiy man who permits the intrusion of 
business affairs in his home. The making of 
that rule was due to the suggestion and per- 
suasion of your dear departed mother; and it 
is something I shall ever be grateful to her for. 

It was at this period, with all moving along 
serenely and smoothly both at home and at 
the office, that a most remarkable and startling 
event occurred ; an event which completely 
changed my views, as well as the whole course 
of my life. It came without any warning, like 
a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. 

I returned home one evening in the best of 
humor with myself and with all the world. 
Everything had gone smoothly that day; 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 169 


there had been no difficult problems to decide 
no irritating incidents, the regular stream of 
business had been full, free and placid. Physi- 
cally I felt in fine condition, my spirits seldom 
ran higher than on that occasion. At home all 
was serene; the dinner was good, the house 
comfortable, and everyone in an 5>g*'eeable 
frame of mind. I spent the evening in read- 
ing some book of the day, which, as I remem- 
ber, was not particularly exciting or interest- 
ing. I went to bed early, and dropped off to 
sleep in a very few minutes. My slumbers 
were of a disturbed character, however; I was 
restless and turned and returned in my bed. 
I was sufficiently awake to realize that fact. 
Soon I fell dreaming, at first with indistinct 
pictures and scenes, but which as the night 
went on took more definite and clearer shape, 
until at last the hallucination became perfectly 
real and distinct. I knew it was a dream, yet 
it was so clear and real that it impressed me as 


160 CONrBSSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

a cool harrowing reality, for as it proceeded 
it took on a horrible and terrifying character. 

I thought I had passed through the gates 
of death and into a cold, perfectly plain room. 
The place was absolutely devoid of furniture 
or ornamentation of any kind, except for three 
large cha’»*c which rested on a raised platform, 
behind a perfectly plain bench. In front of this 
bench were two or three tables, each with a 
chair and in front of these a low wooden fence, 
apparently. There was no one sitting in the 
large chairs behind the bench, that is, I could 
see no one, although I felt conscious that there 
was some one there. In the small chairs before 
the tables there was, so far as my eyes could 
see, no one sitting, but on the tables hands 
were resting, and, as the scene proceeded, these 
armless and bodyless hands worked as if in 
the act of writing. I was ordered to stand 
directly behind the low wooden fence. 

Suddenly a voice spoke; it came from the 
large middle chair on the platform. It was 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 161 


cold, absolutely without feeling, soft and dis- 
tinct ; the words were slow and measured : 

“Ralph Ranscomb, banker?” was the 
first query. 

“Yes,” I answered trembling*. 

“I am ready to hear the story of your life, 
both the good and bad, and to make record 
thereof. Proceed.” 

I was so affected by the gruesomcness of 
the scene, the cold, barren room, tlie armless 
hands ready to record what I said, and the 
coldly-cruel, passionless voice which was in- 
terrogating me, that my tongue froze within 
my mouth — I could not speak. The voice 
waited for a time and again said : 

“Proceed.” 

It was some little time before I could make 
myself heard. Finally I began, and after I 
had recounted some of my good deeds, I felt 
easier and told my tale more freely. Acting 
on the instructions of “The Voice,” I began with 
my childhood. I related how self-sacrificing 


162 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 

I had been with my sister Margaret, how I 
had frequently, at my mother’s request, played 
with and entertained her, when if I had fol- 
lowed my own inclinations I would have gone 
off to play with the boys. I told how I had 
been a leader among the boys, and while I had 
led them into many pranks, they had been of 
a harmless nature. I felt that I had been of 
great service to these boyhood companions in 
that I had developed their imagination and 
abilities, as well as made their young lives 
happy. As to my organ and mowing machine 
experiences I had nothing to be sorry for; 
while I had used the powerful art of flattery 
to make sales, I didn’t consider that wrong, 
for I knew I was giving the farmers and their 
wives something they ought to have; I gave 
them good goods, full value for their money, 
and that was the main point. The occurrence 
among the striking miners I thought best not 
to refer to. In my book-selling career I had 
always acted honorably ; the books I sold were 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 163 


the best made, and even in a case like that of 
Cyrus Smith, where I used my knowledge and 
my persuasive tongue to bring him to time, 
I gave him what he wanted — he simply paid 
the value of the books and the price I put on 
my idea; it was a grand idea and well worth 
the price to Mr. Smith. As for the Banker 
Robinson incident, I didn't consider it neces- 
sary to mention, either. 

When it came to the latter years of my life, 
the time since I have been located in the city 
at the head of my big banking house, I took 
on new courage and spoke almost with a spirit 
of pride of what I had done. I had sensed the 
interests of my stockholders well, had treated 
them and the depositors as if they were mem- 
bers of my family. I was counsellor and ad- 
viser for them all, trustee for the dependent, 
guardian for the helpless, watched and worked 
for their interests at all times. A father 
couldn’t take a more kindly and effective in- 
terest in their affairs than I did. They all 


164 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 


came to me with their troubles and I frequently 
went much out of my way to help them. 

I didn't let my good work stop with my 
own stockholders and depositors. I became a 
friend of the poor and helpless wherever I 
could. I gave freely to the support of several 
of the hospitals of the city, and in two cases 
I gave $5,000 to endow beds. I gave to several 
Libraries, to the Coal and Ice Mission, the Sea- 
man's Home, the Home for Aged Protestant 
Men and Women, the Rescue Home, the Non- 
Sectarian Foundling Asylum, the Infants’ 
Fresh Air Mission, the Whistler Deaf and 
Dumb Asylum and the Presbyterian Widows’ 
Retreat. In many of these institutions I was 
a member of the board and devoted a great 
deal of my time to the work they had in hand. 
In addition to all this, I was quite a free giver 
to the church, and to Home and Foreign 
Missions. Many a poor widow or helpless 
man had felt the beneficence of my hand. 

It was with a feeling of great satisfaction 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 166 


and restored confidence that I paused after the 
recital of the above. 

“Is that all ?'’ said the feelingless Voice. 

I was chilled through and through again, 
but mustered up courage to add that I had led 
a blameless life; I had been a good boy and a 
good man. I did not drink nor swear; 
I was not immoral ; in my dealing with men I 
had been honest to a degree. 

“Now listen,” said The Voice : “you say you 
have led a pure life— that is no more than was 
to be expected of you. You acted as counselor 
and guide to the stockholders and depositors 
of your bank? Was there not self-interest 
there? Did you not do it mainly in order to 
promote the business of the institution? You 
say you gave lavishly of your wealth to the 
various charities, which you so painstakingly 
enumerate ; did you ever calculate what the pro- 
portion of your donations was to your gross 
income? Merely a trifle, was it not? Wasn’t 
the widow’s mite of elephantine proportions 


166 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 


as compared with it? Now, let us look at the 
other side of the ledger; we’ll begin at the be- 
ginning. You say you sacrificed your own 
pleasure to look after your little sister Mar- 
garet. Did you not take her toys from her un- 
justly, first through working on her sympa- 
thies, and later on by a vicious use of flattery ? 
Are not those who use flattery, as William 
Penn says, 'thieves in disguise?’ Did you not 
by your base use of it first make her hard- 
hearted, and afterwards cause her to be a 
misanthrope by weakening her faith in human 
kind ? 

"Was the abuse of the confidence your boy- 
hood friends placed in you the part of an hon- 
orable boy ? When you wheedled Casper 
Smith into exchanging his beautiful red wagon 
for your old, worn-out rifle, weren’t you guilty 
of swindling him? And wasn’t it dishonor- 
able in you not to share with Casper the reward 
for the lost pocketbook which he found ? 

"What excuse was there for that abomin- 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 167 


able piece of vandalism when you deliberately 
destroyed Gardener Erkheimer’s melon patch? 
It was his patch, not yours. 

“Do you think you deserve any credit for 
the nefarious way in which you duped your 
boyhood friends when you sold them your 
worn-out boyhood treasures at unconscionably 
large prices? 

“How about your farmer customers and 
their wives? Did you not steal their money 
through the skillful use of flattery? Was it 
honest ? Was i t j ust ?” 

“I gave them good machines and good 
organs,” I answered. 

“Possibly; but you can’t deny that they 
would never have bought, and particularly at 
such high prices, had you not used your oily 
tongue so skillfully and thus hoodwinked 
them. 

“Do you consider that you acted the part 
of an honest man when you aroused the im- 
pressionable miners to atrocious deeds through 


168 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

your eloquence ? Don’t you know that you had 
no real interest in their wrongs, and that hence 
you were the vilest of hypocrites to pretend to 
have ? Wasn’t your offending the more odious, 
in that to make a few petty sales of organs, 
you used your God-given eloquence to play on 
the wrongs of down-trodden men, to arouse 
their passions to such an extent that they were 
ready for any crime, even that of murder?” 

'^Have mercy on me,” I groaned. 

'‘Then there is W(x>d, the lumberman, 
and Colonel Mullins, and Perkins, the ‘shor 
king;’ do you think your methods with them 
were above reproach ? To call it by the mildest 
terms, weren’t you guilty of trickery and de- 
ception ? 

‘‘Think of Cyrus Smith ; how you imposed 
on his ignorance — how you robbed him of 
his dollars through cunning and art. Do you 
dare deny it?” 

“No.” I could deny nothing tliat that 
sepulchral Voice charged me with; if it had 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 169 


accused me of not loving my wife and son, I 
doubt if I could have denied it. The accusa- 
tions and (juestions came in such rapid succes- 
sion that I scarcely had time to answer one 
l^efore the next was put at me. 

“How about John Robinson, the banker?” 
continued The Voice. “You failed to mention 
him in your recital of your good deeds ; I infer 
from that that you y^iurself do not feel that 
there was anything good in that transaction. 
Was it not a conscienceless 1)reach of trust, if 
not a deliberate swindle of a confiding friend? 
Weren’t you guilty of gross deception, not only 
toward Banker Robinson, but also toward the 
steamboat company, the street railway, the con- 
cessionaires, the newspapers, etc.? Don’t you 
know it was a rascally performance ? 

“By what method of reasoning can you ex- 
cuse the manner of organizing the Hippie 
bank ? W asn’t the free stock you got a verita- 
ble theft? Wasn’t it cheating the gullible town 
merchants who paid cash for their stock? 


170 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 


Wasn’t it a fraud on the state government 
under whose laws you organized and were per- 
mitted to do business?” 

“It’s done right along, and then we made 
money for every one who came in with us,” I 
ventured. 

“Yes; you made money for the small 
stockholders, and nine times as much for your- 
selves, but at their risk — wasn’t that a fraud 
on them? You say it is done right along; yes, 
theft is perpetrated right along, burglaries are 
constantly committed, aye, murders are of 
almost daily occurrence — does that make them 
right; does the plea that it is done right along 
excuse you of an infraction of the moral law?” 

Without waiting for a reply The Voice went 
on, next taking up the case of Jonathan Price, 
the railroad promoter. “You flattered your- 
self that you made a sharp turn in the case of 
Jonathan Price,” it said; “according to the 
views of many men of the world, you did. You 
recognized he had a good thing, that he was 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 171 


going to make a lot of money from nothing, 
and you reasoned that you ought to have the 
lion’s share of it. Not that you were, in 
equity, entitled to it, but that you had it in your 
power to seize it. You argued with yourself 
thus : Here is a poor fellow with an idea, a 
good idea, a money-making idea, but which can 
not be carried out without capital. I have the 
capital; capital is capital and has value without 
Price’s idea, but Price’s idea without capital 
is nothing; hence I am justified in taking the 
lion’s .share of the profits in Price’s idea, 
simply because be is powerless to prevent me. 
Fie on such a doctrine ; it is most odious. 

“But your action in the case, while repre- 
hensible, does not compare in baseness to your 
treatment of Edwin Matthews, the coal man. 
You deliberately led this poor fellow on to 
ruin. Satan himself could scarcely devise a 
more subtle plan for getting a victim within 
his toils. You loaned him more than you 
knew he should borrow ; you even encouraged 


172 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 


him to go beyond the limit of safety by the 
freedom with which you met his requests ; then 
when you knew you had him in your power, 
you swooped down like a vulture on his prey 
and took his all. By selling his bonds (which 
you held as collateral) to yourself for a song, 
and then seizing his other property in payment 
of the ‘unpaid’ notes, you paid yourself twice 
over for what he owed you. Little did it mat- 
ter to you the ruin you wrought to him and to 
his dependent family; the misery, starvation, 
wretchedness that came to them was nothing 
to you, so long as you got your greedy hands 
on the gold.” 

“Have mercy, have mercy,” I cried. 

“Have mercy ? What mercy did you have ? 
Were you merciful when you deceived and 
swindled the widows and orphans who put 
their trust funds in your care? Were you 
merciful when you lay in wait like a tiger for 
the opportunity to spring upon the assets of the 
United Cotton Manufacturing Co. ? Think 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 173 


over the history of that affair; you set a trap 
to catch the company. You designedly loaned 
freely to them, just as you did in the case of 
Mr. Matthews ; you did this to have the larger 
part of the company’s indebtedness in your 
hands so that when the day of tight money 
came you would have them in your hard 
power; when, owing to your hard terms, they 
sought for relief elsewhere, you secretly cir- 
culated false reports of their insolvency, in 
the determination to force them to accept your 
iniquitous terms; your plan to thus rob the 
Cotton company was as henious as a highway 
robbery, satanic both in its conception and in its 
carrying out. Your hypocritical plea, that you 
had to ‘push’ them on account of your duty to 
your stockholders and depositors only served 
to make your offending the greater in the eyes 
of the Lord. You can’t deny that it was a piece 
of devilish rascality to first lead the Cotton 
company people into a trap, and then, hyena- 
like in your greed for gold, proceed to despoil 


174 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

them of their financial life blood ? Do you call 
that merciful ? 

“How do you excuse your conduct in the 
Columbus-land railway case? Wasn’t that a 
robbery pure and simple? The fact that the 
millions that were divided among the thieves 
came from the government of Columbus-land 
does not lessen your guilt; to be sure, you 
don’t see your victims — the widow, the orphan, 
the poor toiler, the helpless who pay the taxes 
that go to make up the millions you stole — 
but they are there, everyone of them, and you 
know it. Were you merciful to them?” 

“But I didn’t plan the scheme; I merely 
furnished the funds to carry it through ; as far 
as I was concerned it was a pure business prop- 
osition, in which I took certain risk in order to 
gain more.” 

“Bah ! a business proposition, indeed ! 
When Fink presented the matter to you, you 
knew it was robbery ; when you put your 
money into it, you became a full-fledged part- 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 175 


ner in the steal, and were hence as guilty as 
they. You tried to quiet your conscience, to 
be sure, with the pretext that as you did not 
originate the plot, you were an innocent sharer 
in the spoils^ and that so far as you were con- 
cerned it was ‘merely business.' In all rascally 
deeds there is usually only one who has the 
genius to plan the knavish act; does that fact 
exempt the others, who help carry the scheme 
through to completion, from responsibility? 

“But enough. Let us sum up your record. 
Beginning with your sister, we find you guilty 
of a gross abuse of confidence; with Casper 
Smith, deception and trickery ; with Erkheimer, 
uncalled-for revenge and vandalism ; with your 
boyhood friends, conscienceless duplicity; with 
the farmers and their wives, theft through 
deceit ; with the miners, hypocrisy and treason ; 
with Wood, Mullins, Perkins and Cyrus Smith, 
cunning, trickery and deceit; with Robinson, 
breach of trust and barefaced rascality; with 
the Hippie bank, cheating and fraud; with Jon- 


176 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

athan Price, the theft of an idea; with Mat- 
thews, robbery; with the Cotton company, 
highway robbery ; with the Coluinbus-land 
railway, a partner in the tlieft of millions. 
Truly a diabolical list of crimes! 

“You who posed before the community as 
an honorable man, as a philanthropist, as a 
Christian; who dared to recite with evident 
pride the list of your personal virtues and your 
commendable public acts ; who, with great 
unction, told of the various charities to which 
you gave a pittance (a pittance when gauged 
by your Midas-like income), and to which you 
devoted a little of your time ; aye, it is you who 
are guilty of all this iniquity. Little wdll your 
good deeds serve as an offset to such a damna- 
ble list. Your insane greed for gold has led 
you into the vilest acts; through your crimes 
you have been a killer of faith, a breeder of 
envy, hate, vengeance and cynicism; a sucker 
not only of the financial blood of the kings of 
the business w^orld, but also of the helpless 


CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 177 


widow and orphan ; a wrecker of humble 
homes ; an assassinator of souls and a murderer 
of the hopes of the helpless ; a financial hyena, 
a robber on the highway of trade, a vampire 
at the throat of commerce.” 

”Mercy! Mercy! Oh, Lord! Have 
mercy,'' I sobbed. 

Some years ago while in a neighboring 
city on a rainy afternoon I had nothing to do, 
and found it difficult to put in the time. There 
were no matinees at the theaters, at least none 
of a kind that I cared to be present at ; I had 
viewed the art exhibits of the town before, and 
as for musical entertainments could attend 
none as the place was absolutely poverty- 
stricken in this respect. I had read the news- 
papers and books all morning, and didn't care 
to read any more. I was at my wits' ends 
what to do for I had to do something. I at 
length bethought me of a painting which I 
had been told a short time before was on exhi- 


178 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 

bition at one of the large department stores. 
My informant had said that if I ever had the 
opportunity of seeing it, I would make a mis- 
take if I failed to do so. 

“The very thing,” I said to myself, and off 
I went at once. 

The painting was a large canvas, covering 
the side of an extensive wall ; I wouldn't under- 
take to give its measurements from memory. 
Suffice it to say, it could not be exhibited in 
any ordinary room. It was called “The Con- 
querors,” and was Pier Fritel's famous paint- 
ing, first exhibited at the Paris salon. In the 
center of the picture was a long troop of richly 
dressed horsemen, riding gaily caparisoned 
horses, and carrying what in the mass looked 
to the eye like a forest of spears. In the front 
row of this formidable procession was Sesos- 
tris, Caesar and Alexander, and in the next 
Attilla, Napoleon and Tamerlane. The road- 
way over which the proud column advanced, 
at first glance, looked like a corduroy road, but 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 179 


closer inspection showed it to be composed of 
whitened corpses of men, women and children, 
on whose ghastly faces could be seen expres- 
sions of fear, pain, misery, agony. As a 
printed card at the foot of the painting said, it 
“describes in pictorial allegory the triumphant 
progress of the great heroes of history — and 
the cost of their triumphs.*' 

The picture made a deep impression on me. 
and for a long time afterward I could not get 
it out of my mind, it told its story so well, and 
made its lesson so clear and intelligible. Of 
course, as months and years went by, the re- 
membrance of it became less vivid, although I 
never did and never will forget its main 
features. I was destined to have it brought 
sharply to mind in a way most unexpected. 

Immediately after “The Voice*' had sum- 
med up the list of my unpardonable offenses, 
as just related above, I was commanded 
to follow the invisible being; that is. I was to 
follow “The Voice." I was led through a door, 


180 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 

which opened off to the right of the large 
platform. We entered a room totally dark 
and deadly silent. I was commanded to stand 
still and watch. Soon at the far end of the 
room a dim light began to illuminate the wall. 
I observed this very closely, nervously anxious 
to see what was coming into view. At first I 
could only see that there were tall figures, but 
as the light grew stronger the picture, for pic- 
ture it was, came out strongly and distinctly. 
It was “The Conquerors,'' and in that light, 
and under the circumstances surrounding me, 
it appeared more ghastly arid horrible than 
ever. I fairly shuddered in my horror, and 
wondered what this wretched picture was being 
shown me for; I had not long to wait for the 
answer. While I stood looking, the conquerors 
and their horses faded away and in their place 
appeared one large charger with his rider. 

The rider— was I. 

I almost swooned away when I recognized 
myself, for I then realized why I had been 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 181 


brought to view the picture and the awful 
lesson that was intended. But imagine my 
horror when right before my eyes the ghastly, 
whitened corpses began to assume the features 
of the various victims of my cupidity. There in 
the front to the left was my poor little sister 
Margaret, with a look of reproach spread over 
her face; following this the countenances of 
my boyhood friends also showing reproach, 
Erkheimer exhibiting anger and hate, the 
miners vindictiveness ; on the other side Edwin 
Matthews and his wife and children, with grief, 
pain and despair despicted on their wan faces. 
Looking along the two rows I recognized vic- 
tim after victim. Their facial expressions were 
frightful — sorrow, distress, emaciation, de- 
sjjair, anguish, abject wretchedness could be 
seen on their gaunt, haggard, famished-look- 
ing countenances. The sight was one which 
under any circumstances would be most al)hor- 
rent; but for me it was a hundred-fold so. 
There was I, fat, sleek, richly attired on a 


182 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN’ MIDAS 


magnificent charger riding to iny goal over the 
hideous array of pallid corpses. My blood 
froze in my veins; I was unmanned, I lost all 
control of myself. I felt I couldn’t stand it. 

While I continued to look, my eyes fasci- 
nated by the horrible picture, the bodies 
seemed to move toward me. The next moment 
I turned and ran out the door shrieking. 

Henry, you know what happened after 
that, although you did not know what led up 
to the dreadful scene. You remember, you 
can’t help but remember, how you and the rest 
of the household were awakened out of your 
sleep by my wild shrieking and my madman 
antics, as I went through the house on that 
memorable night ; what trouble you had in cap- 
turing and subduing me ; how you got the doc- 
tor there, who found me in a violent fever; 
how I was closely watched and nursed for 
three weeks before I came out of the delirium, 
and was once more rational. You now know 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 183 


the cause, and the reason for my somewhat re- 
markable actions after I got sufficiently well to 
take hold of business affairs again. 

During the weeks I lay there on my sick 
bed I carefully thought the whole thing over. 
Everything I had ever done, as far as my 
memory served me, was gone over in my mind, 
the morality of the act considered from every 
point of view, and the results noted on my men- 
tal ledger. This took time, for no judge, how- 
ever conscientious, could have more carefully 
weighed the evidence. I have no doubt my 
physician wondered what was delaying my 
convalescence, for there is little doubt that the 
work of this mental court had that effect. I 
realized this at the time; I knew that if T 
would put it all out of my mind for the time 
being I would the more quickly get on my feet 
again. But it had to be fought out then and 
there; no matter whether it hampered the 
physicians' and the nurses' work or not. It 
was a disease itself ; I was the doctor who had 


184 CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 


to cure it, and there was but one way to do 
that. The course I pursued was the only way. 
After this mental court had been in session 
for a few weeks the case was argued and the 
decision made. The verdict was against me, 
and the sentence was that I should make repar- 
ation.. 

As stated previously, I realized that the 
whole horrid scene I had passed through was 
merely a dream, for I have no faith in anything 
approaching the supernatural, but I reasoned 
that the dream was at least a God-inspired one. 
But whether it was God-inspired or not, it had 
brought home to me facts, presented before me 
moral truths to which, in the course of an 
active business career, I had been singularly 
blind. I have no doubt there are many good 
men in the business life of the day who are in 
the same condition ; the morality in their char- 
acters is regrettably pushed to the rear in the 
excitement of the chase for wealth; they are 
not innately immoral, they simply lose sight of 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 185 


the good principles in them for the time being. 
Some great shock is needed to bring the good 
to the surface. I had received mine. 

There was but one course to take to relieve 
my soul of the terrible weight that oppressed 
it, that was to unburden myself of my ill- 
gotten gains. I must give my fortune away to 
the helpless and the unjustly treated. Before 
I left my bed I completely outlined my plans: 
when this was done I fv lt that a load had been 
taken off my shoulders. The effect of this 
mental relief was most marked ; I immediately 
began to get better, and was soon out of bed. 
* ♦ 

My plan is to make it the principal business 
of my life to distribute my store of wealth 
among the poor and needy. This must, of 
course, be done judiciously. I want it to go 
to helpless children for their support and edu- 
cation, to the aged and discrepit, to the indigent 
sick, to the unfortunate, and particularly to the 
needy who have been despoiled of their savings 


186 CONFESSIONS OP A MODERN MIDAS 


or earning power by grinding corporations or 
grasping men. You, Henry, will find attached 
to this, a schedule of everything I own. The 
part of my fortune which came to me from 
your mother’s estate, will be clearly indicated; 
it will not be touched. It was come by hon- 
estly and honorably, and justly belongs to you. 
It is quite a substantial fortune, as large as 
any man, who does not crave gold for gold’s 
sake, can ever make use of in a sensible way. 
It will give you all the comforts and enough 
of the luxuries of life to make you and yours 
happy. A large part of my own wealth was 
honorably earned; there is no taint whatever 
on it, but the rest of it is so polluted that I 
can’t feel easy unless it all goes to make repar- 
ation for my evil deeds. If I should die before 
I am able to properly distribute this money, I 
want you to continue the work to the end — 
until every cent of it has been directed into 
channels where it will aid and benefit humanity. 
If you study the schedule attached hereto, you 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 187 


will more fully comprehend the plan on which 
I am proceeding, and on which I want you to 
proceed in case I am not spared to finish the 
task. God bless you, my boy, and may the 
Lord give you strength to do as I desire. 


CHAPTER X. 


There is little more to say. After recover- 
ing from the severe shock, which the reading 
of his father’s narrative had caused, Henry 
Ranscomb began to look over the schedule of 
assets attached to the main paper. This con- 
tained a list of every stock, every bond and all 
real estate that the senior Ranscomb had 
owned. Opposite each entry was a statement 
giving the source of the property, i. e., whether 
it had been earned through Mr. Ranscomb’s 
efforts, or was purchased by money Mrs. 
Ranscomb, Henry’s mother, had inherited. 

Henry went over the itemized accounts 
and found that all of his father’s individual 
fortune was checked off as having been given 
away, and the destination of each gift desig- 
nated. The stocks and bonds and realty he had 
inherited, and which had been taken over by 


CONFESSIONS OF A MODERN MIDAS 189 


him after his father’s death, had all been owned 
by his mother; this was made very clear to 
him by the paper which lay in his lap. 

His father had completed his great work — 
he had made full reparation; there was noth- 
ing left for the son to do. 





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